Mlii 


XT  v5  1916 


BR   121    .K47    1916 

Kirk,  Harris  Elliott,  1872 

■X.  J  %J  J   , 

The  religion  of  power 


THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 


HARRIS     E.    KIRK,     D.D 


THE  SPRUNT  LECTURES 

DKLIVKRED    AT 
UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 
RICHMOND,    VIRGINIA,     1916 


THE  RELIGION 
OF  POWER 


A  STUDY  OF  CHRISTIANITY  IN  RELA- 
TION TO  THE  QUEST  FOR  SALVATION  IN 
THE  GRiECO-ROMAN  WORLD,  AND  ITS  _ 

SIGNIFICANCE  FOR  THE  PRESENT  AGE  -^^  iB/J 

i      OCT  2n  19: 
HARRIS  E.  KIRK,  D.D.  ^^'/       - 


HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 

NEW  YORK 

GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1916, 
Bt  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


fMNTED    IN  THE   rNTTED   STATES   OF  AMEUICA 


TO 

MY   WIFE, 

BEST   FRIEND,  FAITHFUL    CRITIC 
AND  FELLOW   WORKER. 


THE  JAMES  SPRUNT  LECTURES 

In  1911,  Mr.  James  Sprunt  of  Wilmington, 
North  Carolina,  gave  to  the  Trustees  of  Union 
Theological  Seminary,  in  Virginia,  the  sum  of 
thirty  thousand  dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  es- 
tablishing a  perpetual  lectureship,  which  would 
enable  the  institution  to  secure  from  time  to  time 
the  services  of  distinguished  ministers  and  authori- 
tative scholars,  outside  the  regular  Faculty,  as 
special  lecturers  on  subjects  connected  with  va- 
rious departments  of  Christian  thought  and 
Christian  work.  The  lecturers  are  chosen  by  the 
Faculty  of  the  Seminary  and  a  committee  of  the 
Board  of  Trustees,  and  the  lectures  are  published 
after  their  delivery  in  accordance  with  a  contract 
between  the  lecturer  and  these  representatives  of 
the  institution.  The  fifth  series  of  lectures  on 
this  foundation  is  presented  in  this  volume. 

Walter  W.  Moore,  President. 


yii 


PREFACE 

This  book  is  the  outcome  of  personal  experience. 
When  I  began  my  ministry  eighteen  years  ago,  I 
was  quite  content  to  preach  what  I  had  been 
taught  to  beheve,  but  when  the  need  for  a  more 
intimate  appropriation  of  truth  became  urgent,  I 
sought  to  gratify  it  in  some  form  of  philosophy, 
being  willing  for  the  most  part  to  translate  his- 
torical conceptions  of  religion  into  the  more  or 
less  complex  terms  of  modern  thought. 

It  soon  became  evident,  however,  that  this  was 
superficial.  There  was  need  for  a  firmer  hold  on 
truth,  especiall}^  for  an  appreciation  of  the  stabi- 
lising influence  of  the  great  past;  and  my  mind 
turned  towards  the  causal  significance  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

This  book  is  the  result  of  a  fresh  endeavour 
to  interpret  Christian  experience  for  myself;  and 
whatever  degree  of  confidence  is  imparted  to  the 
central  affirmations  of  this  course  of  lectures  is 
due  to  a  series  of  convictions  rooted  and  grounded 
in  historic  reality.  I  believe  that  Christianity  is 
the  religion  of  power  because  I  have  experienced 


X  PREFACE 

it  in  my  own  life.  I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  Son  of  God  and  that  His  gospel  is  the  final 
and  complete  adjustment  of  the  human  spirit  to 
its  eternal  relationships. 

Naturally,  what  we  have  found  to  be  true  for 
ourselves  we  believe  to  be  of  some  importance  to 
others.  In  this  spirit  I  send  forth  this  book  in 
the  hope  that  it  may  aid  inquiring  minds  to  find 
Him  who  is  "the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life." 

This  book  is  intimately  associated  with  five  good 
friends.  I  should  like  in  this  place  to  acknowledge 
my  indebtedness  to  Alfred  H.  Barr,  John  Mc- 
Dowell and  John  S.  Conning,  for  sympathy  and 
advice;  to  Arthur  W.  Hawks,  Jr.,  for  reading  the 
proofs,  and  to  James  H.  Taylor  for  preparing  the 

index.  _^ 

H.  E.  K. 

The  Manse,  Franklin  Street  Presbyterian  Church, 
Baltimore,  September,  1916. 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTORY 

rECTUKE  PAGE 

I.     The  Westward  Movement  of  Christianity       15 

PART   ONE:     THE   QUEST   FOR  SAFE 
CONDUCT 

II.  The  Ritual  Quest  for  Safe  Conduct  .         .  49 

III.  The   Ethical   Quest   Among   the   Greeks   .  81 

IV.  The  Ethical  Quest  Among  the  Romans     .  115 

V.  The  Legal  Quest  Among  the  Jews     .         .  147 

PART  TWO:     THE   RELIGION   OF 
POWER 

VI.     Christianity  as  the  Religion  of  Power     .     177 

VII.     Christianity  as  a  Justifying  Power     .  .     209 

VIII.     Christianity  as  a   Constructive  Power        .     239 

CONCLUSION 
IX.     The   Finality  of  Christianity     .         .         .     271 
Index 309 


INTRODUCTORY 


LECTURE    I 

THE    WESTWAED    MOVEMENT    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


LECTURE    I 

THE    WESTWARD    MOVEMENT    OF    CHRISTIANITY^ 

The  purpose  of  this  course  of  lectures  is  to  study 
Christianity  as  the  religion  of  power  in  relation 
to  its  Grgeco-Roman  background.  In  shaping 
the  materials  I  have  kept  steadily  in  mind  the 
requirements  of  a  number  of  people  who  desire 
to  put  behind  the  sentiments  and  impulses  of  re- 
ligious experience  a  body  of  rich  and  deep  con- 
viction. 

The  need  of  religious  convictions  develops  from 
experience.  We  begin  with  a  simple  and  un- 
critical faith  in  the  facts  of  Christianity  as  they 
are  presented  to  us  by  environment.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  home  and  the  church  usually  deter- 
mines such  matters  for  us.  But  as  experience  de- 
velops, it  brings  our  faith  into  comparison  with 
the  beliefs  and  life  of  the  world,  and  this  makes  a 
fresh  interpretation  necessary.  We  begin  to  ask 
ourselves  if  what  we  were  taught  to  believe  is 
really  true.  We  wish  to  know  if  there  is  a  rea- 
sonable basis  for  faith,  and  ordinarily  we  seek  ad- 

15 


16  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ditional  information  by  examining  the  sources  of 
our  experience. 

The  range  of  such  an  inquiry  will  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  desire  of  the  individual,  but  the  result 
will  be  a  growth  of  convictions  on  what  we  re- 
gard as  essential  points.  If  we  care  to  pursue  the 
inquiry  further  we  may  reduce  our  beliefs  to  sys- 
tem and  get  theology;  and  if  we  wish  to  go  still 
further  we  may  extract  the  essence  from  our  the- 
ology and  get  a  creed,  which  would  be  a  clear 
statement  of  all  that  we  believe  concerning  Christ 
and  Christianity. 

Most  people  are  content  with  a  simple  faith,  be- 
ing willing  to  follow  the  teaching  and  example  of 
their  religious  environment.  Few  people  become 
theologians,  and  very  few  have  a  definite  idea  of 
a  personal  or  self-selected  creed. 

There  is,  however,  a  minority  that  requires  some- 
thing more  than  a  sim.ple  faith.  People  of  this 
type  are  obliged  by  their  intellectual  necessities  to 
investigate  the  basal  significance  of  experience. 
They  are  unable  to  trust  so  important  a  matter  to 
impulse.  They  need  ideas  as  well  as  emotions. 
They  do  not  require  a  complete  theology,  but  they 
must  have  clear  cut,  conscientious  convictions  on 
essential  points.  Their  passion  is  to  "get  to  know 
Christ."  This  was  a  Pauhne  ambition  and  should 
be  encouraged.    Any  one  who  knows  this  modern 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  IT 

world  realises  the  urgency  and  sincerity  of  such  a 
demand.  An  intelligent  man  without  religious 
convictions  is  as  helpless  as  a  passenger  ship  in 
midocean  without  a  navigator.  The  nurture  of 
the  intelligence  is  as  important  an  element  in 
spiritual  growth  as  the  cultivation  of  the  affec- 
tions or  the  discipline  of  the  will. 

It  is  this  class  to  which  I  make  my  appeal. 
We  are  in  this  world  not  simply  to  hold  or  to  en- 
joy a  faith,  but  to  propagate  a  faith.  We  are,  or 
ought  to  be,  the  passionate  advocates  of  salvation 
through  Jesus  Christ.  But  we  cannot  ask  others 
to  be  Christians  unless  we  are  reasonably  sure  of 
our  own  status.  It  is  not  enough  to  have  spirit- 
ual emotions:  we  must  have  ideas  that  explain 
these  emotions,  for  without  ideas  faith  cannot  be 
propagated.  Ideas  are  the  hooks  of  faith  that 
stick  into  the  intelligence ;  thc}^  are  the  framework 
around  which  emotions  grow,  and  character  forms. 
Naturally  we  believe  that  what  is  true  for  our- 
selves must  be  important  for  others;  and  if  we 
have  convinced  ourselves  that  w^e  have  a  reason- 
able basis  for  faith,  we  shall  not  hesitate  to  chal- 
lenge the  world's  intelligence  in  the  effort  to  im- 
part it. 

If  convictions  are  important,  it  is  the  better 
part  of  wisdom  to  select  the  best  possible  method 
of  forming  them.     Shall  we  develop  them  in  the 


18  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

interest  of  a  philosophy  of  religion,  or  shape  them 
round  the  historic  facts  of  Christianity?  Shall 
our  interest  lie  chiefly  in  the  relation  of  proposi- 
tions to  each  other  in  behalf  of  a  system,  or  in  a 
series  of  events  in  human  history?  Both  methods 
are  important,  but  I  prefer  the  historical  to  the 
philosophical  approach  to  the  question,  and  for 
what  seems  to  be  a  very  practical  reason. 

Whatever  philosophy  of  religion  one  may  hold, 
must  always  be  determined  by  the  view  one  has 
of  its  historic  significance.  We  must  begin  with 
history.  But  the  peculiar  temptation  that  waits 
on  philosophy  is  the  exaggeration  of  theoretic 
explanations.  It  is  easier  to  suit  the  facts  of 
history  to  one's  theory  than  to  bring  one's  the- 
ory into  harmony  with  historic  facts.  And  if 
we  adopt  the  historic  approach,  it  might  turn  out 
that  we  can  not  only  begin,  but  end  our  view  of  re- 
ligion in  its  history;  we  might  get  along  without 
philosophy,  because  we  should  get  an  adequate 
view  of  religious  truth  from  an  historical  stand- 
point. Most  assuredly  the  power  of  religious 
conviction  does  not  depend  on  one's  ability  to  sys- 
tematise religious  truth.  The  realism  of  convic- 
tion is  derived  from  actual  contact  with  historic 
events.  For  history  reveals  something  more  than 
reasons;  it  reveals  causes;  it  exhibits  the  causal 
significance  of  Christianity.     It  shows  us  a  re- 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  19 

ligion  of  power,  dynamic  unto  the  saving  of  souls. 
If  we  can  shape  our  convictions  on  the  causal 
aspect  we  may  dispense  with  system. 

It  is  clear  that  the  intelligent  man  of  to-day  is 
not  asking  for  a  complete  system  of  religious 
truth.  He  cannot  be  interested,  save  in  a  super- 
ficial way,  in  a  philosophy  of  religion.  Philoso- 
phies of  religion  are  more  admired  than  read. 
But  the  modern  man  does  believe  in  power;  he 
knows  power  when  he  sees  it,  and  he  has  a  very 
clear  notion  that  power  makes  history. 

It  is  upon  the  causal  significance  of  Christian- 
ity that  I  wish  to  lay  the  emphasis.  I  am  not  in- 
different to  its  philosophy,  but  I  believe  that  ap- 
preciation of  its  power  in  history  is  sufficient  to 
give  reality  and  strength  to  faith,  and  to  stabilise 
life  in  the  face  of  many  speculative  problems 
which  we  may  never  be  able  to  solve. 

And  I  am  encouraged  to  take  this  position  by 
a  recent  statement  of  Mr.  Balfour.  In  his  Gif- 
ford  lectures  he  has  called  attention  to  the  double 
aspect  of  beliefs :  "All  beliefs  have  a  position  act- 
ually, or  potentially,  in  a  cognitive  series;  all  be- 
liefs, again,  have  a  position,  known  or  unlmown, 
in  a  causal  series.  All  beliefs,  in  so  far  as  they 
belong  to  the  first  kind  of  series,  are  elements  in 
one  or  more  collections  of  interdependent  propo- 
sitions.    They  are  conclusions,  or  premises,  or 


20  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

both.  All  beKefs,  in  so  far  as  they  belong  to  the 
second  kind  of  series,  are  elements  in  the  tem- 
poral succession  of  interdependent  events.  They 
are  causes,  or  effects,  or  both."  ^  This  is  an  im- 
portant distinction.  We  may  regard  our  beliefs 
about  Christianity  as  belonging  either  to  a  cogni- 
tive or  to  a  causal  series.  Our  aim  may  be  either 
a  complete  system  of  religious  truth,  or  an  ade- 
quate interpretation  of  religious  experience.  The 
first  is  the  legitimate  object  of  the  theologian,  the 
latter  is  the  practical  demand  of  ordinary  intelli- 
gence. The  average  man  is  not  interested  in  the 
more  or  less  successful  attempt  to  systematise  a 
series  of  interdependent  propositions;  but  he  is 
tremendously  concerned  with  the  effort  to  under- 
stand his  relation  to  the  causal  aspect  of  religion. 
For  whatever  we  may  think  of  religious  experi- 
ence one  thing  is  clear  and  that  is  that  it  is  caused. 
Our  experience  is  an  effect;  and  the  greater  the 
spiritual  maturity,  the  keener  is  the  conviction 
that  we  are  what  we  are  by  the  grace  of  God. 

To  believe  in  the  causal  aspect  of  Christianity; 
to  have  a  few  clear  ideas  of  its  function  in  individ- 
ual experience  seems  to  me  to  be  the  chief  demand 
of  the  time  among  those  whose  intellectual  re- 
quirements force  them  to  seek  for  something  more 
than  a  simple  and  uncritical  faith. 

^  "Theism  and  Humanism/'  pp.  58-59- 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  gl 

The  power  of  Christianity  is  revealed  in  his- 
tory. It  has  produced  a  series  of  interdependent 
events  in  the  domain  of  man's  life,  and  there  is  al- 
ways something  quite  definite  about  history.  His- 
toric events  are  real.  Let  it  be  frankly  admitted 
(since  I  have  no  disposition  to  deny  it)  that  our 
personal  attitude  towards  the  claims  of  Jesus 
Christ  will  in  some  measure  determine  our  view 
of  the  facts  of  Christianity;  still  it  remains  true, 
and  on  this  alone  I  wish  to  insist,  there  is  a  cer- 
tain fixed  minimum  of  unchangeable  fact,  a  defi- 
nite deposit  of  indestructible  truth  in  history,  on 
which  to  base  one's  conclusions.  I  am  far  from 
saying  that  a  complete  system  of  religious  truth  is 
unattainable;  to  many  it  may  appear  quite  de- 
sirable or  even  necessary;  but  what  I  do  main- 
tain is  that  we  need  not  wait  for  this  to  become 
Christians.  In  my  judgment  we  have  enough  in 
the  history  of  Christianity  to  justify  faith,  and  a 
closer  contact  with  its  causal  significance  will  en- 
able us  to  be  strong  and  stable  believers,  in  spite 
of  the  want  of  a  complete  theory  of  religion. 

The  most  convincing  facts  of  history  are  the 
ethical  facts.  Professor  Meyers  has  recently  de- 
fined history  "as  past  ethics."  ^  The  degree  in 
which  the  moral  ideal  is  expressed  in  history,  is 

^  See  an  interesting  discussion  of  the  idea  in  "History  As 
Past  Ethics/'  chapter  1. 


22  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

the  measure  of  our  confidence  in  the  explana- 
tions given  by  those  who  shared  in  the  experience 
of  its  power.  It  cannot  be  questioned  that  Paul's 
account  of  the  power  that  transformed  his  life  is 
more  convincing  than  an  explanation  coloured  by 
present-day  philosophy.  For  one  thing,  he  was 
closer  to  the  facts,  and  for  another,  his  account 
resembles  the  one  usually  derived  from  our  own 
experience. 

The  Christian  knows  that  his  experience  is  an 
effect,  and  his  intelligence  demands  some  explana- 
tion of  its  cause.  He  does  not  ask  for  a  complete 
theory;  he  wants  an  interpretation  of  the  power 
that  is  functioning  in  his  conscious  life. 

And  it  is  a  great  step  in  the  direction  of  sim- 
plicity to  remember  that  Christianity  is  deeply 
rooted  in  history ;  and  that  its  history  is  interpreted 
in  a  series  of  trustworthy  documents  written  for 
the  most  part  by  those  who  from  the  first  were 
experimentally  acquainted  with  its  transforming 
power. 

The  need  for  religious  conviction  is  met  in 
the  New  Testament  by  doctrines.  We  may  think 
of  religious  doctrines  as  belonging  either  to  a 
cognitive  or  to  a  causal  series.  In  the  one  case 
we  have  a  series  of  interdependent  propositions,  in 
the  other  a  series  of  causal  explanations. 

I  believe  that  doctrine  belongs  to  both  series. 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  23 

On  the  one  hand  doctrines  are  revelations  of  ob- 
jective truth.  They  may  be,  and  ought  to  be 
worked  up  into  a  system,  simply  because  they  are 
organically  related.  The  church  must  have  a 
systematic  theology,  if  it  is  to  furnish  adequate 
instruction  to  its  members.  In  addition  to  theol- 
ogy the  church  requires  a  creed;  but  the  plain 
truth  is  that  the  church  does  not  succeed  in  mak- 
ing theologians  of  its  members.  Few  are  capable 
of  Lmderstanding  a  theological  system;  and 
fewer  still  have  ever  felt  the  necessity  of  holding 
a  definite  credal  statement  of  all  religious  beliefs. 
Most  people  are  content  to  accept  the  creed  made 
and  provided  by  the  church  of  their  preference. 

But  this  conventional  position  by  no  means  in- 
dicates the  real  attitude  of  the  individual  towards 
Christ  and  Clu^istian  truth.  His  real  interest  is 
not  in  a  series  of  inter-related  beliefs,  so  much  as 
in  the  causal  significance  of  Christianity.  He  is 
more  interested  in  causes  than  in  reasons  because 
he  is  usually  more  impressed  with  power  than  with 
theories.  I  believe  religious  doctrines  have  this 
additional  aspect.  They  belong  not  only  to  a 
cognitive  but  to  a  causal  series.  They  are  not 
only  true,  biit  useful,  and  were  in  some  measure 
devised  to  meet  the  need  of  growing  intelligence, 
with  specific  reference  to  this  point,  namely:  to 
explain  the  function  of  the  power  which  in  the 


24  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

beginning  had  originated  a  divine  life  within  the 
soul.  Doctrines  are  descriptive  of  function;  they 
explain  how  Christ's  redemptive  power  functions 
in  individual  experience. 

If  Christianity  is  the  religion  of  power  it  will 
manifest  itself  in  individual  life.  Knowledge  of 
its  function  is  necessary  to  a  stable  faith  because 
it  explains  the  utility  and  practical  necessity  of 
ideas  on  the  main  subject  of  religion.  We  do 
not  know  the  nature  of  electricity ;  we  do  not  need 
to  understand  the  theory  of  the  dynamo,  that  of 
course  is  professional  knowledge;  but  we  must 
know  something  of  the  function  of  electricity  if 
we  are  to  use  it  safely.  We  must  study  its  habits 
and  learn  how  to  control  it  in  the  interests  of  our 
practical  needs.  Now  the  habits  of  this  mysteri- 
ous power  are  its  functions.  Increased  knowledge 
of  function  means  enlarged  utility.  Electricity 
has  a  lighting  function,  but  it  is  capable  of  other 
uses.  It  has  a  heating  function,  it  is  useful 
as  motive  power,  and  above  all  it  has  a  therapeu- 
tic function.  The  gi'eat  utility  of  this  mysteri- 
ous force  is  due  to  a  growing  knowledge  of  func- 
tion, or  in  other  words  to  the  doctrines  of  elec- 
tricity. It  is  even  so  with  the  power  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  rooted  in  the  mysterious  nature  of 
the  eternal  God.  The  finite  mind  can  never  fully 
comprehend  the  Infinite  intelligence.   Theories  of 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  25 

religion  are  limited  by  this  essential  fact.  But 
stability  in  faith  turns,  not  on  theory,  but  on  a 
reasonable  knowledge  of  the  functional  signifi- 
cance of  divine  power  in  the  experience  of  the 
individual.  The  more  he  knows  of  function,  the 
stronger  and  more  vital  will  be  his  experience. 
From  this  standpoint  there  is  a  vast  need  of  teach- 
ing doctrine.  I  believe  there  is  an  intense  desire 
among  intelligent  people  for  a  clearer  knowledge 
of  their  religious  experience.  The  teaching  of 
doctrines  will  meet  this  need,  for  they  are  descrip- 
tions of  function;  a  knowledge  of  function  is  an 
element  in  a  stable  faith.  Moreover  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  truth  that  Christianity  is  power  will 
come,  I  think,  from  a  functional  interpretation 
of  religious  teaching. 

Such  an  interpretation  will  gain  vividness  from 
a  study  of  the  background  of  early  Christianity. 
It  is  easy  to  contrast  Christianity  with  the  re- 
ligious and  ethical  views  current  in  the  Graeco- 
Roman  world  at  the  time  of  the  Advent.  The  im- 
portance of  such  a  study  has  long  been  recognised 
by  scholars;  I  believe  that  such  an  investigation 
will  prove  a  valuable  discipline  for  growing  Chris- 
tians. 

The  study  of  the  background  brings  into  clear 
relief  the  originality  of  the  new  religion.  Chris- 
tianity is  not  a  philosophy,  neither  is  it  a  ritual; 


^6  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

it  is  fundamentally  the  religon  of  power.  Its 
unique  significance  does  not  lie  in  the  novelty  of  its 
ideas,  but  in  its  motive  force.  Its  power  has  made 
history;  it  has  created  and  sustained  a  community 
of  representative  persons,  and  transmitted  a  tradi- 
tion which  a  sound  Biblical  criticism  has  never  dis- 
turbed. Moreover,  it  has  offered  a  Person  as  the 
object  of  faith,  who  is  able  to  impart  moral  and 
spiritual  vitality  to  every  one  who  is  willing  to  re- 
ceive Him.  Man's  mind  craves  ideas  but  man's 
soul  longs  for  communion  with  the  living  God. 
We  can  never  be  content  to  trust  ourselves  to  a 
series  of  concepts  however  true  they  may  be;  we 
need  and  must  have  personal  contact  with  a  Per- 
son. Jesus  Christ  stands  there,  the  one  luminous 
spot  in  the  world's  darkness,  a  fixed  and  inde- 
structible fact  of  history.  He  cannot  be  explained 
away.  The  philosophic  tides  of  the  world  have  for 
centuries  surged  round  His  base,  but  He  stands 
out  above  them  all  hke  a  great  rock  in  a  restless 
sea.  He  is  the  Desire  of  all  the  nations,  and  holds 
in  His  hands  the  key  to  the  human  heart,  and  is 
the  final  and  complete  adjustment  of  the  human 
spirit  to  the  issues  of  eternity. 

The  chief  purpose  of  this  series  is  to  present 
Christianity  as  the  religion  of  power,  as  it  is  re- 
vealed in  certain  of  its  characteristic  documents; 
to  observe  its  function  in  the  unique  experience  of 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  27 

its  community  life,  and  to  set  forth  its  originality 
as  it  appears  on  its  Gr^eco-Roman  background. 

In  the  first  lecture  we  shall  consider  the  west- 
ward movement  of  Christianity.  To  the  back- 
ground we  shall  devote  the  next  four  lectures, 
wherein  we  shall  study  the  passion  for  adjustment 
between  God  and  man,  which  manifested  itself  in 
certain  historic  quests  for  safe  conduct.  In  one 
lecture  we  shall  take  up  the  conception  of  power 
and  show  how  it  was  expressed  in  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus,  and  in  the  creation  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity. In  two  lectures  we  shall  consider  the 
functional  aspect  of  three  characteristic  Christian 
doctrines.  In  the  concluding  lecture  we  shall  give 
some  reasons  for  believing  in  the  finahty  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  its  importance  for  the  present  age. 

The  study  of  the  westward  movement  of  Chris- 
tianity brings  to  our  attention  the  interesting  con- 
dition of  the  world  at  the  time  of  the  Advent. 
This  movement  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  while 
the  way  was  closed  towards  the  Jew,  it  was  open 
towards  Rome  and  the  gentile  world. 

The  Jew  was  fated  to  mistake  his  destiny.  God 
intended  him  to  be  a  missionary  of  religion,  but 
he  persistently  misconceived  his  calling  and  al- 
lowed political  ambitions  to  confuse  his  spiritual 
outlook  so  as  to  preclude  the  possibihty  of  ac- 
cepting his  Messiah.     No  people  have  ever  loved 


28  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

freedom  more  than  the  Jewish  race,  yet  no  peo- 
ple have  so  profoundly  confused  political  with 
spiritual  liberty.  At  the  time  of  the  Advent  it 
was  practically  impossible  for  the  Jew  to  think 
of  a  spiritual  experience  apart  from  political  free- 
dom. He  wanted  a  Messiah  whose  kingdom  was 
of  this  world,  and  this  secular  aim  was  respon- 
sible for  his  tragic  failure. 

A  more  specific  reason  for  the  failure  of  Chris- 
tianity to  move  eastward  is  to  be  found  in  the 
divisions  among  the  Jewish  people.  The  domi- 
nant parties  in  church  and  nation  were  Pharisees 
and  Sadducees. 

The  Pharisee  was  a  religious  patriot,  and  his 
remarkable  influence  over  Israel  was  due  to  the 
peculiar  development  of  Jewish  religion  that  fol- 
lowed the  Babylonian  exile.  Prior  to  the  exile 
the  Jew  never  thought  of  questioning  his  religious 
status  because  he  was  a  child  of  Abraham  and  a 
member  of  the  covenant  race;  but  after  the  exile 
religion  became  a  more  intimate  and  personal 
matter.  The  old  communal  morality  was  set  aside 
in  favour  of  individual  morality ;  and  with  the  col- 
lapse of  the  Jewish  city-state  the  need  of  a  definite 
and  personal  way  of  salvation  became  paramount. 
The  question  before  the  Jew  was  how  to  get  in 
right  relations  with  God,  and  how  to  keep  himself 
in  right  relations  ?    The  answer  was  given  in  terms 


m 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  29 

of  legal  obedience  to  the  revealed  law.  But  since 
the  law  required  interpretation  the  order  of 
Scribes  arose,  and  with  them  a  body  of  oral  tradi- 
tion which  shortly  was  added  to  the  written  law, 
and  this  composite  of  revelation  and  tradition 
was  the  authoritative  standard  of  Jewish  religion. 
This  tendency  to  exalt  the  law,  by  the  end  of  the 
second  century,  B.  C,  had  developed  into  the 
party  of  the  Pharisees,  who  through  the  syna- 
gogue worship  attained  a  vast  influence  over  Jew- 
ish life  and  opinion.  Believing  as  they  did  that 
spiritual  freedom  was  conditioned  by  political 
freedom,  the  Pharisees  were  consistent  opponents 
of  foreign  influences  and  in  the  time  of  Christ 
their  ruling  passion  was  to  drive  the  Roman  out 
of  Palestine.  Their  patriotic  ambitions  tempted 
them  to  interpret  the  Messianic  hope  in  a  national 
and  secular  way ;  they  believed  that  Messiah's  mis- 
sion would  be  to  establish  the  law  and  nation  and 
give  the  Jew  spiritual  and  political  authority  over 
the  world.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  suggest  how 
utterly  unlike  to  the  real  kingdom  of  Christ  this 
notion  was.  The  complete  difference  between  the 
ideals  of  Jesus  and  those  of  the  Pharisees  suffi- 
ciently explains  why  this  class  could  not  welcome 
Christianity. 

The  Sadducees  were  religious  liberals.     Their 
interest  in  tradition  was  limited  bv  the  desire  to 


80  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

preserve  their  priestly  privileges  intact.  They 
were  men  of  the  temple  just  as  the  Pharisees  were 
men  of  the  synagogue.  In  politics,  they  were  op- 
portunists. They  did  not  object  to  foreign  in- 
fluences ;  in  fact  their  fixed  policy  was  to  preserve 
the  status  quo.  Above  all  they  had  no  wish  to 
antagonise  Rome,  and  were  willing  that  the  nation 
endure  any  sort  of  political  bondage,  provided 
they  were  unmolested  in  the  enjoyment  of  their 
privileges.  The  chief  fear  of  the  Pharisees  was 
heresy,  that  of  the  Sadducees  was  sedition.  The 
Pharisees  opposed  Christ  because  of  His  attitude 
towards  the  law;  the  Sadducees  opposed  Him  be- 
cause His  dominion  threatened  the  political  and 
ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  their  order. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  was  impossible  for 
either  of  these  powerful  orders  to  accept  Chris- 
tianity. Their  opposition  was  inevitable.  At  first 
they  were  not  able  to  form  an  opinion  of  the 
facts;  but  when  they  did  realise  the  drift  of 
Christ's  teaching  they  were  perfectly  willing  to 
sacrifice  Him  rather  than  give  up  their  preten- 
sions. These  parties  controlled  the  Jewish  church 
and  effectively  closed  the  way  towards  Judaism. 

There  was  a  class  among  the  Jews  deserving 
the  highest  consideration.  They  were  called  the 
"devout  in  Israel."  This  was  the  Godly  remnant 
spoken  of  by  the  prophets  that  waited  the  advent 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  31 

of  a  spiritual  Messiah;  but  they  had  little  influ- 
ence on  the  policies  of  the  nation.  Among  this 
class  we  find  such  as  Simeon  and  Nathaniel,  the 
parents  of  John  the  Baptist,  and  the  mother  of 
Jesus.  They  were  ready  to  receive  the  Messiah 
and  welcomed  the  missionary  character  of  the  new 
religion,  but  they  could  not  vitally  change  the  at- 
titude of  the  nation. 

But  while  the  door  was  closed  towards  Judaism 
and  the  East,  it  was  open  towards  Rome  and  the 
gentile  world.  It  was  a  world  of  violent  and  vivid 
contrasts  and  its  outstanding  features  are  easily 
grasped. 

In  the  first  place  it  was  an  age  of  profound 
confusion  and  disappointment.  It  was  a  time  of 
political  disenchantment.  The  last  century  be- 
fore Christ  was  distinguished  by  the  breakdown 
of  the  Roman  republic.  The  ancient  political 
organisation  was  found  to  be  inadequate  for  the 
new  needs.  The  failure  of  the  old  safeguards  had 
developed  a  wide  spread  feeling  of  insecurity  in 
all  departments  of  life,  and  nowhere  was  this  so 
evident  as  in  moral  and  spiritual  matters.  For 
several  centuries  the  native  faith  had  been  on 
the  decline.  This  religion  was  so  closely  identified 
with  the  fortunes  of  the  state,  that  whatever  in- 
stability appeared  in  political  relationships  was 
immediately  reflected  in  the  religious  attitude. 


S2  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  Roman  religion  depended  on  the  city-state; 
but  as  the  city-state  gave  way  to  the  Roman  com- 
monwealth, and  eventually  developed  into  an  em- 
pire, faith  in  the  native  religion  was  permanently 
impaired.  The  views  of  the  intelligent  Roman  of 
the  last  daj^s  of  the  republic  are  reflected  in  the 
writings  of  Cicero.  Cicero  had  no  personal  faith 
in  the  native  religion,  but  he  believed  its  revival 
to  be  a  political  necessity.  Government  needed  a 
religious  sanction,  and  politicians  of  Cicero's  type 
were  quite  willing  to  restore  the  old  religion;  or 
even  to  improve  it  by  the  addition  of  the  best  ele- 
ments of  current  philosophies  or  desirable  fea- 
tures of  the  Oriental  religions  which  were  then 
very  popular  in  Rome.  But  in  spite  of  this  the 
pessimism  of  the  time  is  expressed  in  the  pas- 
sionate scepticism  of  Lucretius,  or  even  in  the 
gracious  humanism  of  Virgil,  that  best  of  poets; 
while  the  need  for  stability  is  quite  apparent  in 
the  strenuous  efforts  made  by  Augustus  to  revive 
interest  in  the  native  faith. 

In  the  second  place  it  was  an  age  of  intense  re- 
ligious inquiry.  Eras  of  political  disillusion  have 
usually  been  eras  of  religious  revival.  Political 
disturbances  ordinarily  set  men  on  fresh  spiritual 
adventures,  for  where  faith  in  government  is  im- 
paired the  need  for  protection  becomes  acute,  and 
it  is  natural  to  seek  for  it  in  religion.     In  the 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  33 

case  of  the  Romans,  when  they  could  no  longer 
trust  themselves  to  the  native  gods,  they  turned 
eagerly  to  other  and  newer  cults.  This  accounts 
for  the  wide  spread  influence  of  the  Oriental  mys- 
tery religions  in  the  time  of  Christ.  Magna  Mater 
and  Isis  were  especially  influential. 

The  intelligent  classes,  while  not  indifferent  to 
religion,  usually  sought  peace  in  some  sort  of  phi- 
losophy. The  philosophies  of  Greece,  especially 
as  they  had  been  interpreted  by  such  men  as  Pa- 
naetius  and  Posidonius,  were  accessible  to  the  in- 
telligent man,  and  the  influence  of  Stoicism  and 
Epicureanism  was  far  reaching.  In  all  walks  of 
life  men  were  willing  to  discuss  religion  or  re- 
ligious philosophy.  It  was  felt  that  an  epoch  of 
history  was  closing;  the  world  was  on  the  thres- 
hold of  fresh  departures  and  every  one  needed 
spiritual  guidance. 

These  conditions  make  it  easy  to  understand 
that  the  gentile  world  was  ready  for  the  Chris- 
tian propaganda,  and  the  readiness  to  receive  the 
new  religion  was  aided  by  two  factors  of  the  first 
importance.  The  first  factor  was  the  influence 
of  the  Jew  of  the  dispersion,  the  second,  the  re- 
ligious aspirations  of  God-fearing  gentiles. 

The  first  factor  directly  favourable  to  the  expan- 
sion of  Christianity  was  the  wide  spread  dispersion 
of  the  Jew.    For  centuries  the  world  had  been  in  a 


34  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

state  of  flux.  Since  Alexander's  conquests  peo- 
ples and  races  mingled  freely,  and  when  the 
Roman  rule  was  firmty  established  it  was  almost 
as  eas}^  to  travel  about  the  world  as  it  is  to-day. 
At  the  Advent  there  were  between  five  and  eight 
million  Jews  resident  in  the  Roman  empire.  The 
Jew  was  the  most  clannish  of  peoples,  and  he  made 
his  racial  solidarity  evident  everywhere.  Judaism 
was  a  ""Weligio  Ucita"  in  the  empire  during  the 
early  days  of  the  Christian  propaganda.  Freed 
from  the  burdensome  restrictions  thrown  round 
other  foreign  faiths,  and  protected  by  law  in  the 
exercise  of  his  peculiar  forms  of  worship,  the  Jew 
naturally  attained  a  considerable  influence  as  a  re- 
ligious factor,  wherever  his  worship  was  estab- 
lished. The  religious  bond  of  the  Jew  was  the 
synagogue.  In  every  town  and  hamlet,  as  well 
as  the  metropolis,  you  would  find  the  spiritual  in- 
terest of  the  Jew  centring  in  the  synagogue.  He 
always  selected  a  commanding  site  for  his  house 
of  worship,  and  the  peculiarity  of  this  religion 
naturally  attracted  the  attention  of  the  gentile 
peoples. 

The  religion  taught  in  these  provincial  syna- 
gogues differed  in  many  important  particulars 
from  that  of  the  Palestinian  Jew.  It  was  more 
liberal;  less  limited  to  ritual  expressions  and  apt 
to  emphasise  ethical  monotheism.     Moreover  the 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  35 

Jew  revealed  to  that  melancholy  age  a  contented 
and  on  the  whole  a  happy  life.  The  worship  of  the 
true  God  gave  him  a  foothold  beyond  time  and 
he  was  able  to  stand  out  above  his  age  as  a  strong 
and  stable  force.  Furthermore,  he  was  full  of 
missionary  zeal  and  laboured  to  propagate  his  faith 
among  the  gentiles.  This  faith  was  the  expres- 
sion of  the  highest  type  of  ethical  monotheism 
known  in  those  times,  and  the  propaganda  was 
aided  by  the  Greek  version  of  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures.  It  is  impossible  to  overestimate  the 
importance  of  such  a  factor  in  preparing  the  way 
for  Christianity. 

The  second  factor  of  importance  favourable  to 
the  spread  of  the  new  religion  was  the  spiritual  as- 
pirations of  God-fearing  gentiles.  This  class  is  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 
Paul  makes  specific  reference  to  them  in  his  speech 
at  Pisidian  Antioch ;  Cornelius,  the  first  uncircum- 
cised  gentile  admitted  to  the  church,  Lydia,  the 
seller  of  purple,  and  Justus,  in  whose  house  at 
Corinth  Paul  organised  a  church,  were  God- 
fearers.  We  hear  of  them  in  Thessalonica  and 
Athens.  The  Greeks  who  came  to  Jesus  in  the 
passion  week  probably  belonged  to  this  class.  The 
centurion  of  the  gospels,  who  loved  his  servant,  was 
also  of  the  number.  He  is  said  to  have  loved  the 
Jewish  nation,  and  to  have  built  them  a  syna- 


86  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

gogue.  They  are  variously  described  as  "those 
that  feared  God,"  "those  that  worshipped  God"; 
sometimes  as  "the  devout"  and  once  as  "rehgious 
proselytes." 

Up  to  recent  times  the  God-fearers  were  iden- 
tified with  proselytes  of  the  gate,  and  their  sig- 
nificance was  not  clearly  recognised;  but  recent 
investigations  have  conclusively  shown  that  they 
were  not  proselytes  at  all.  They  never  submitted 
to  the  distinctive  rite  of  circumcision,  but  con- 
stituted what  Schurer,  our  chief  authority,  has  de- 
scribed as  a  "fringe  of  devout  heathenism  round 
the  Jewish  synagogue."  ^  The  God-fearer  never 
intended  to  become  a  regular  proselyte,  but  he 
accepted  the  monotheism  and  ethical  standards  of 
the  synagogue  worship.  In  some  respects  he  ob- 
served the  ceremonial  law,  notably  that  of  tithing 
or  of  Sabbath  keeping;  he  gave  moral  and  often 
material  support  to  the  Jewish  propaganda,  and 
in  many  other  ways  aided  in  the  spread  of  ideas 
favourable  to  Christianity. 

But  the  God-fearing  gentile  is  significant  of 
much  more  than  this.  His  religious  aspiration 
shows  that  there  were  many  in  that  age  passion- 
ately seeking  the  true  God.  They  had  outgrown 
the  native  religion,  they  were  too  high  minded  to 

^  See  Kirsopp  Lake,  "Earlier  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,*'  pp. 
87-40. 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  37 

fall  under  the  sensuous  spell  of  the  Oriental  cults ; 
moreover  they  were  not  content  with  current  phi- 
losophies, but  had  grouped  themselves  round  the 
Jewish  synagogue,  a  body  of  receptive  learners. 
They  represent  on  gentile  soil  the  ideal  Jew  after 
God's  own  heart  and  may  properly  be  classed  with 
those  who  were  looking  for  the  world's  Saviour. 

It  was  from  this  class  that  the  largest  and  most 
influential  accessions  to  Christianity  came.  They 
eagerly  welcomed  the  new  faith.  When  Paul  was 
preaching  in  Corinth,  in  spite  of  Jewish  protests, 
the  majority  of  the  God- fearers  went  over  to  the 
new  religion  and  organised  a  Christian  church  in 
the  house  of  Justus,  one  of  their  number.  What 
took  place  in  Corinth  frequently  happened  in 
other  places.  If  Paul  felt  it  important  to  make  a 
special  appeal  to  this  class  in  his  speech  at  Pisi- 
dian  Antioch,  it  is  natural  to  suppose  that  he 
would  do  it  elsewhere.  It  was  the  wholesale  de- 
sertion of  these  powerful  auxiharies  as  much  as 
the  strangeness  of  the  new  teaching  that  occa- 
sioned the  bitter  hostility  of  the  Jews  towards  the 
Christian  propaganda. 

This  explains  the  rapid  spread  of  Christianity 
over  the  gentile  world.  Granted  a  people  suffer- 
ing from  political  and  rehgious  disillusion,  in  pas- 
sionate search  of  a  way  of  life,  and  keenly  inter- 
ested in  religious  discussions;  granted  an  age  in- 


38  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

creasingly  under  the  influence  of  two  powerful 
factors,  such  as  the  Jew  of  the  dispersion  and  the 
God-fearing  gentile,  and  all  that  was  needed  for 
a  rapid  spread  of  the  new  religion  would  be  an 
enthusiastic  presentation  of  its  central  message. 
It  was  the  concurrence  of  these  notable  factors: 
a  passionate  missionary  propaganda  and  a  world 
eager  for  its  message  that  carried  the  gospel  from 
its  provincial  surroundings  in  Jerusalem  to  the 
heart  of  the  world's  metropolis,  and  transformed 
it  from  a  small  Jewish  sect  into  a  religion  of 
conscious  power  and  universal  mission. 

The  story  of  the  westward  movement  is  told 
in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  a  book  of  first  rate 
historical  importance  not  only  because  it  is  the 
only  account  we  have  of  the  beginnings  of  church 
history,  but  also  because  it  was  written  by  a  man 
who  had  the  historic  sense  developed  in  a  remark- 
able degree.  Recent  investigations  have  practi- 
cally demonstrated  the  fact  that  this  book  was  writ- 
ten by  Luke,  a  gentile  physician  and  companion 
of  Paul,  at  Rome  during  Paul's  first  imprison- 
ment.^ Luke  alone  among  New  Testament  writers 
had  a  genuine  historical  spirit.  He  is  not  an 
annalist  but  a  biological  historian.  His  aim  is  to 
describe  a  great  movement  and  he  selects  his  facts 

*Harnack:     "Luke  the  Physician;  Date  of  Acts  and  the 
Synoptic  Gospels."     Crown  Theological  Library. 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  39 

with  special  reference  to  its  development.  He  was 
intensely  aware  of  the  dramatic  qualities  of  his- 
tory, and  masses  his  facts  so  as  to  reveal  the  under- 
lying principle  of  growth  and  enable  the  reader  to 
follow  the  story  to  a  logical  conclusion. 

Luke's  aim  is  to  tell  the  story  of  how  Chris- 
tianity moved  out  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Jewish 
world  to  become  a  world  religion  in  the  metropolis 
of  gentile  civilisation.  It  is  a  story  so  vividly  told 
that  it  captures  the  imagination,  yet  of  such  clarity 
and  massive  strength  as  to  produce  in  a  reasonable 
mind  the  strongest  sort  of  persuasion  of  its  truth. 

The  story  falls  into  three  divisions:  first  there 
is  the  stage  of  beginnings,  centring  at  Jerusalem, 
in  which  Peter  is  the  leader;  second  there  is  the 
stage  of  transition  centring  in  Antioch  of  Syria, 
in  which  Barnabas  and  Saul  are  the  leaders;  and 
third  there  is  the  story  of  culmination  centring 
at  Rome,  in  which  Paul  is  the  leader. 

Beginning  in  Jerusalem  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost, we  get  the  primitive  conception  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  new  faith  is  still  organically  related 
to  the  old,  and  the  teaching  is  offered  solely  to 
Jews  and  proselytes  under  the  shadow  of  tlhe 
temple.  The  testimony  of  the  infant  church  is 
given  in  Peter's  sermon  and  is  concerned  with 
Jesus  of  ISTazareth.  This  teaching  was  limited  to 
three  things :  first,  Jesus  was  the  Jewish  Messiah, 


40  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

second,  the  resurrection  was  proof  of  His  Messiah- 
ship,  and  third,  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
was  a  demonstration  of  Messiah's  power  to  save. 

At  first  the  propaganda  occasioned  no  decided 
break  with  the  Jewish  authorities.  Futile  efforts 
under  the  lead  of  the  Sadducees  failed  for  want  of 
support  from  the  Pharisees.  The  latter  were  dis- 
posed to  let  well  enough  alone.  Jesus  was  dead, 
the  movement  could  not  last,  and  in  so  far  as  the 
resurrection  teaching  was  concerned,  this  was  in 
some  respects  in  sympathy  with  their  own  beliefs. 
The  disciples  seemed  to  be  a  band  of  mistaken  re- 
formers :  why  not  let  them  alone  ?  This  view  was 
reflected  in  the  speech  of  Gamaliel.  It  was  true 
that  the  enthusiasm  of  the  disciples  was  <discon- 
certing,  but  the  authorities  were  little  disposed  at 
that  time  to  interfere. 

But  an  incident  occurred  shortly  after  that 
made  it  imperative  that  the  two  great  parties  in 
the  Jewish  church  should  forget  their  differences 
and  unite  to  suppress  the  new  faith.  Rapid  growth 
in  the  church  occasioned  a  division  of  labour  and 
certain  deacons  had  been  chosen,  among  whom 
was  Stephen,  a  Jew  of  the  dispersion,  with  pro- 
found insight  into  the  radical  character  of  the  new 
religion  and  considerable  ability  as  an  orator. 

The  speech  of  Stephen  was  the  beginning  of  the 
period  of  transition  and  brought  the  infant  com- 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  41 

munity  to  a  full  consciousness  of  the  significance 
of  its  faith.  Stephen's  sermon  reflects  the  think- 
ing of  a  Jew  of  the  dispersion,  who  while  loyal 
to  ancient  traditions  is  still  broadminded  and 
catholic  in  his  view  of  truth.  He  asserted  his 
belief  in  the  divine  significance  of  ancient  tradi- 
tion. Undoubtedly  both  law  and  temple  were 
divine  institutions;  and  of  course  this  was  the 
conviction  of  a  true  child  of  Abraham.  But  he 
asserted  in  addition  that  since  Jesus  had  come, 
both  law  and  temple  had  been  superseded;  and 
that  all  that  was  essential  to  Judaism  had  been 
taken  over  into  the  new  religion. 

The  radical  nature  of  such  teaching  is  obvious 
since  it  at  once  set  aside  everything  that  Pharisee 
and  Sadducee  believed  Judaism  to  be.  The  im- 
mediate effect  was  the  martyrdom  of  Stephen,  the 
closing  up  of  the  ranks  among  contending  fac- 
tions, and  the  beginning  of  an  organised  move- 
ment to  suppress  the  new  faith.  It  is  a  dramatic 
example  of  poetic  justice  that  the  man  selected  to 
lead  this  campaign  of  extermination  should  have 
been  destined  to  become  the  chief  advocate  of  the 
despised  religion. 

The  historian  proceeds  to  describe  the  effect  of 
persecution  on  the  fortunes  of  the  infant  church. 
We  see  the  birth  of  missionary  zeal,  and  the 
spread  of  the  gospel  through  Samaria  into  Syria. 


42  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

We  hear  of  a  notable  ministry  of  Philip,  and  of 
an  unprecedented  admission  of  an  uncircumcised 
gentile  into  the  membership  of  the  church.  With 
dramatic  fulness,  Saul's  conversion  is  described, 
but  little  is  said  of  his  long  retirement  in  Tarsus. 

Resuming  the  main  thread  of  his  narrative, 
Luke  tells  of  the  rapid  development  of  the  church 
in  Antioch  of  Syria.  This  movement  was  so  im- 
portant that  it  was  deemed  best  to  supervise  it 
from  Jerusalem,  and  Barnabas,  a  Cypriote  Jew, 
was  sent  to  direct  the  work.  Barnabas  was  a  dis- 
cerning man  and  from  the  outset  had  been  Saul's 
friend.  He  now  summons  liim  from  his  retreat 
in  Tarsus  and  under  the  joint  leadership  of  these 
two  men  the  church  attained  to  such  distinction 
that  the  disciples  were  first  called  Christians  at 
Antioch.  Hitherto  they  had  been  known  as  "peo- 
ple of  the  way,"  a  sect  of  Judaism,  but  it  was  now 
evident  that  this  was  a  mistake. 

The  difference  between  Judaism  and  Christian- 
ity at  once  raised  the  question  as  to  terms  of  ad- 
mission for  gentiles.  Were  they  to  be  admitted 
to  church  fellowship  on  terms  of  faith  and  repent- 
ance, or  must  they  first  become  proselytes  to 
Judaism?  Cornelius  it  is  true  had  entered  the 
church  on  the  simple  terms  of  faith  and  repent- 
ance, but  this  was  regarded  as  an  exception.    The 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  43 

church  at  Antioch  had  been  founded  on  the  same 
terms,  but  this  had  been  done  by  certain  name- 
less disciples  without  the  authority  of  the  church 
in  Jerusalem.  Should  the  authorities  of  the  par- 
ent church  insist  upon  the  more  rigid  terms,  or 
accept  the  inevitable  and  allow  gentiles  to  become 
Christians  without  becoming  proselytes? 

At  first  the  question  was  allowed  to  drift;  a 
private  agreement  between  Saul  and  the  Jeru- 
salem authorities  opened  the  way  for  a  foreign 
mission  and  the  church  at  Antioch  sent  out  Bar- 
nabas and  Saul  as  the  first  missionaries  to  heathen 
lands. 

But  this  gave  great  offence  to  Jewish  Christians 
of  the  stricter  sort,  and  when  Paul  returned  from 
the  first  mission  journey  the  need  for  an  official 
deliverance  on  the  question  was  paramount.  Such 
a  deliverance  was  made  by  the  great  council  of 
Jerusalem,  in  favour  of  the  liberal  policy.  Gen- 
tiles were  to  be  admitted  to  church  fellowship 
on  faith  and  repentance,  without  reference  to  their 
attitude  towards  Judaism.  This  was  a  far  reach- 
ing decision,  for  it  enabled  Christianity  forever 
to  cast  off  its  Jewish  limitations;  but  it  was  not 
accepted  as  final  by  the  stricter  type  of  Jewish 
Christian,  and  the  opposition  finally  developed  an 
anti-Pauline  missionary  society  known  as  the  Ju- 


44  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

daizers,  whose  pernicious  activities  troubled  the 
church  for  years  after.^ 

The  council  of  Jerusalem  closed  the  period  of 
transition  and  opened  that  of  culmination.  Freed 
from  the  hampering  influence  of  Palestine,  Paul 
came  to  his  own  as  the  Apostle  to  the  gentiles; 
one  by  one  the  great  centres  of  population  fell 
under  the  spell  of  his  wonderful  ministry,  and 
churches  sprang  up  in  Thessalonica,  Philippi, 
Corinth  and  Ephesus.  Paul  wisely  followed  the 
trade  routes  and  planted  Christianity  in  places 
from  which  it  would  quickly  spread  to  Rome.  The 
glorious  church  which  had  grown  so  influential  in 
the  metropohs  is  evidence  of  the  quick  dispersion 
over  the  gentile  world. 

Paul's  ambition  was  world-wide.  At  the  end  of 
his  third  journey  he  contemplated  a  fourth  which 
should  carry  him  to  Spain,  at  that  time  supposed 
to  be  the  end  of  civilisation.  During  this  journey 
he  proposed  to  realise  a  long  cherished  desire  to 
see  Rome.  The  rest  of  Luke's  story  is  taken  up 
with  the  partial  realisation  of  this  plan.  It  is  a 
story  of  Jewish  intrigue :  of  tumults  in  Jerusalem, 
of  narrow  escapes  and  night  alarms;  of  disputa- 
tions and  imprisonments  in  C^esarea,  culminating 
in  thrilling  adventures  by  land  and  sea,  and  Paul's 

*  For  the  importance  of  this  controversy,  see  MacGregor's 
"Christian  Freedom,"  the  Baird  lecture  for  IQIS. 


THE  WESTWARD  MOVEMENT  45 

arrival  at  last  in  Rome,  a  prisoner  of  the  Lord. 
Here  the  story  fittingly  ends. 

This  thing  was  not  done  in  a  corner.  At  every 
point  the  movement  was  in  contact  with  the  life 
and  opinion  of  the  world.  The  gospel  interested 
all  sorts  of  people.  It  came  into  a  welter  of 
races  and  religions.  It  touched  superstition,  in- 
tellectual confusion  and  insistent  need. 

What  was^  the  temper  of  those  times?  What 
were  the  intellectual  forces  the  new  religion  had 
to  meet?  What  of  the  rival  faiths  with  which 
it  was  compared?  What  were  the  moral  and  spirit- 
ual aspirations  of  that  changeable  and  all  too- 
human  age  ?  In  a  word,  what  was  the  background 
of  life  and  opinion  upon  which  the  gospel  was 
projected?  These  are  some  of  the  questions  upon 
a  study  of  which  we  are  about  to  enter. 


PART  ONE:     THE  QUEST 
FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT 


LECTURE  II 

THE   RITUAL    QUEST    FOR    SAFE    CONDUCT 


LECTURE  II 

THE   RITUAL    QUEST    FOR    SAFE    CONDUCT 

From  the  beginning  man  has  been  a  seeker  after 
God.  This  quest  is  occasioned  by  a  need  for  a 
right  relation  with  God  that  becomes  urgent  in 
proportion  as  man  develops  a  moral  experience. 
Religion  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  human  development 
is  man's  effort  to  meet  this  need. 

No  period  of  man's  history  is  without  this  dis- 
tinguishing feature,  but  perhaps  no  age  has  more 
keenly  felt  the  need  of  a  right  relation  with  God 
than  that  which  forms  the  background  of  early 
Christianity.  It  was,  as  we  have  seen,  an  age  of 
political  and  religious  disenchantment.  The  rapid 
shifting  of  political  barriers,  the  breakdown  of 
ancient  religious  supports,  and  the  violent  mani- 
festations of  passionate  cruelty  which  character- 
ised the  last  days  of  the  Roman  Republic,  together 
with  the  increasing  mobility  of  life  tended  to  bring 
the  question  of  moral  direction  to  the  front  and 
set  the  individual  on  a  fresh  quest  for  God.  We 
are  about  to  begin  the  study  of  some  of  these 
quests.     All  of  them  were  efforts  to  answer  the 

49 


50  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

question;     How  can  a  man  get  right  with  God? 

At  the  outset,  however,  it  will  be  well  to  define 
our  notion  of  religion.  Religion  is  man's  most 
concentrated  conception  of  spiritual  need.  It  is 
the  manifestation  of  an  impulse  which  has  been 
defined  as  "the  efi^ective  desire  to  be  in  right  rela- 
tion to  the  Power  manifesting  itself  in  the  uni- 
verse." ^  This  desire  is  often  based  on  different 
notions  of  deity.  Man  may  believe  in  one  God  or 
in  many  gods ;  he  may  follow  superstition  or  spirit- 
ual revelations,  but  the  fact  of  consequence  is  the 
presence  from  the  beginning  of  this  imperious 
need.  The  need  for  right  relations  expresses  it- 
self in  various  ways,  which  tend  to  become  typical 
and  historically  continuous  because  they  indicate 
representative  phases  of  spiritual  experience.  We 
shall  consider  in  this  and  immediately  succeeding 
lectures  certain  of  these  typical  forms,  but  in  the 
beginning  it  is  best  to  form  an  idea  of  their  gen- 
eral character. 

They  may  be  described  as  quests  for  safe  con- 
duct.^ The  need  for  a  right  relation  with  God 
develops  when  man  becomes  aware  of  the  mys- 
tery of  life.  He  felt  the  mystery  of  his  being 
long  before  he  clearly  thought  about  it,  and  his 

^  Howerth,  quoted  by  Fowler:  "The  Religious  Experi- 
ence of  the  Roman  People,"  p.  8. 

^  I  owe  this  phrase  to  Mr.  L.  P.  Jacks. 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     51 

first  response  to  it  came  through  the  imagination 
rather  than  the  intellect.  Man  felt  that  he  was 
dependent  on  a  power  whose  presence  was  mani- 
fest in  nature.  What  was  this  power?  Was  it  a 
person,  or  an  impersonal  force  ?  Did  it  think,  feel, 
and  will  like  a  man?  The  natural  impulse  was  to 
think  of  this  power  in  such  terms  as  to  mask,  if  not 
entirely  to  destroy  its  strangeness.  The  easiest 
way  of  overcoming  the  mystery  of  God  was  to 
make  Him  in  man's  image,  to  invest  Him  with  hu- 
man attributes. 

The  notion  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  was  a 
painful  one  for  the  primitive  mind.  It  was  too 
remote,  awful  and  vague  in  that  form,  to  satisfy 
human  need,  hence  the  tendency  to  polytheism 
was  present  from  the  first.  Man  broke  up  the 
Infinite  into  a  number  of  finite  parts,  and  by  in- 
vesting these  several  parts  with  human  attributes, 
he  brought  God  within  the  range  of  the  feelings 
and  comprehension  of  the  understanding.  Man's 
first  impulse  was  to  find  a  human  life  in  God,  and 
when  he  thought  he  had  found  this,  it  made  him 
very  much  at  home  in  the  world.  This  was,  as 
Lowes  Dickinson  has  truly  observed,  the  distin- 
guishing feature  of  Greek  religion.^  Among  the 
Greeks,  the  gods  were  the  first  citizens  of  states, 

^  "The  Greek  View  of  Life/'  pp.  3-4. 


52  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

the  founders  of  races  and  the  natural  protectors  of 
peoples. 

These  early  conceptions  were  elaborated  in 
highly  coloured  mythologies;  but  in  spite  of  the 
complexity  and  beauty  of  these  imaginative  forms, 
the  likeness  of  the  gods  to  men  was  never  lost 
sight  of.  Their  passions  were  human,  all  too  hu- 
man ;  and  so  long  as  man  was  able  to  think  of  the 
central  mystery  of  his  hfe  in  familiar  terms,  the 
need  for  adjustment  was  but  vaguely  felt.  It 
was  present,  of  course,  but  never  burdensome.  He 
was  very  much  at  home  in  the  world  because  God 
was  altogether  like  himself. 

But  the  moral  sense  grew  with  man.'s  growth. 
Enlightenment  developed  conscience,  and  man  be- 
gan to  feel  the  spur  of  instinctive  morality.  This 
developed  into  a  critical  tendency  which  operated 
in  two  directions.  On  the  one  hand  man  became 
sceptical  of  his  gods,  on  the  other  hand  he  began 
to  question  his  religious  status.  He  could  neither 
satisfy  his  conscience,  nor  be  at  home  in  the  world. 
He  was  haunted  by  a  feeling  of  not  being  right 
before  God,  and  a  fresh  quest  for  a  right  relation 
with  the  Power  manifesting  itself  in  the  universe 
became  imperative. 

Unable  any  longer  to  be  at  home  in  the  world 
he  becomes  aware  of  the  need  for  moral  guidance, 
and  begins  to  think  of  religion  as  an  expedient  in 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     53 

the  way  of  safe  conduct  through  the  world.  His 
problem  is  a  very  simple  one:  How  can  he  get 
through  tliis  world  with  credit  and  safety?  The 
answer  to  this  question  takes  various  forms.  Some- 
times it  is  expressed  in  ritual  performances,  at 
other  times  in  ethical  speculations.  In  the  case  of 
the  Jew  it  took  the  form  of  obedience  to  a  revealed 
law.  These  methods  of  adjustment  reduce  them- 
selves to  type ;  they  begin  to  make  history  and  can 
be  isolated  and  studied  in  detail.  They  are  of  im- 
mense value  in  understanding  man's  religious  con- 
ceptions because  they  express  certain  persistent 
phases  of  spiritual  experience. 

All  these  methods  of  adjustment  were  current 
in  the  Grasco-Roman  world  when  Christianity  be- 
gan its  westward  movement.  From  Egypt  and 
the  East  came  the  most  attractive  ritualistic  re- 
ligions, from  Greece  the  most  important  ethical 
conceptions,  and  from  Palestine  the  religion  of 
revelation;  and  each  exercised  a  remarkable  in- 
fluence over  the  peoples  to  whom  the  gospel  was 
preached. 

The  influence  of  these  several  forms  of  religious 
teaching  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  age  acutely 
realised  the  need  for  safe  conduct.  Man  felt  that 
he  had  a  clear  title  to  his  sins.  Moral  sensibility 
made  him  aware  of  the  lack  of  harmony  between 
his  experience  and  the  mysterious  Being  whose 


54  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

power  was  manifest  in  the  universe.  The  question 
of  right  relation  was  fundamental.  Man  wanted 
moral  security  and  spiritual  certitude.  He  was 
quite  impatient  with  vague  and  inchoate  notions 
of  religion  and  demanded  a  concrete  and  definite 
transaction  with  the  Deity.  This  explains  the 
syncretic  tendency  of  the  time,  which  is,  as  we 
shall  see,  strikingly  reflected  in  the  writings  of 
Cicero. 

The  problem  of  safe  conduct  was  urgent  for 
a  very  simple  reason.  A  man  may  be  very  well 
content  with  his  religious  status  so  long  as  he  is 
not  obliged  to  think  about  it.  But  if  events  force 
him  to  reflect  he  may  become  dissatisfied  with  it, 
and  when  this  takes  place  he  will  lose  confidence 
in  his  status.  In  other  words  reflection  of  any 
kind  is  apt  to  reopen  the  question  of  safe  conduct. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  prove  that  a  view  of  religion 
is  false;  it  is  only  necessary  seriously  to  question 
it.  Now  the  passion  for  certitude  in  religious  mat- 
ters which  characterised  this  age  was  met  on  every 
side  by  a  questioning  spirit.  The  age  wanted  to 
believe  in  something  because  it  wanted  peace ;  but 
it  could  not  escape  the  pains  of  doubt.  That  is 
why  the  period  of  the  Advent  was  one  of  passion- 
ate religious  inquiry.  The  Grasco-Roman  world 
was  in  quest  of  safe  conduct  and  at  the  same  time 
sceptical  of  familiar  ways  of  salvation.    The  old 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     55 

Roman  gods  were  either  dead  or  inactive.  They 
could  no  longer  satisfy  the  yearning  for  peace  and 
security  which  characterised  the  age ;  still  men  felt 
that  an  answer  to  their  main  question  could  be 
found.  They  were  ready  to  listen  to  any  prophet 
or  any  gospel.  They  were  willing  to  examine  any 
kind  of  religion,  and  what  is  even  more  significant, 
they  were  busy  constructing  new  religions  out  of 
ancient  faiths  and  philosophies.  The  syncretic 
tendency  of  the  time  shows  this.  One  cult  would 
borrow  from  another,  and  each  sought  the  best  ele- 
ments in  current  faiths. 

When  Paul  carried  the  gospel  into  the  gentile 
world  there  were  three  persistent  forms  of  spirit- 
ual experience  exercising  a  mighty  influence  over 
the  people :  salvation  by  ritual,  salvation  by  ethics, 
and  salvation  by  legal  obedience  to  a  revealed  law. 
The  first  was  represented  by  the  Oriental  mys- 
tery religions,  the  second  by  the  Epicurean  and 
Stoic  philosophies,  and  the  third  by  Judaism. 

These  conceptions  were  by  many  questioned, 
and  by  some  found  inadequate.  For  one  thing 
they  were  old.  Each  had  a  past  which  could  not 
be  lived  down.  The  old  Roman  religion  was  still 
devoutly  followed  in  rural  communities,  but  it  had 
little  save  a  political  influence  in  the  centres  of 
population.  As  a  religious  movement  the  Augus- 
tan revival  was  a  failure  from  the  start.     The 


56  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

Oriental  cults  were  immensely  popular  with  the 
masses  but  they  had  little  significance  for  serious- 
minded  intellectuals.  These  as  a  rule  sought  con- 
solation in  philosophy  and  ethical  speculation. 
They  confessed  the  inadequacy  of  theory,  and  felt 
the  need  for  a  "virtue-making  power."  Many  of 
them  were  trying  to  live  in  harmony  with  the  ex- 
ample of  some  ancient  philosopher.  Judaism,  of 
course,  had  powerful  adherents,  even  among  gen- 
tiles. The  presence  among  the  latter  of  God-fear- 
ers is  an  evidence  of  the  superiority  of  Judaism 
over  other  cults ;  still  the  eagerness  with  which  they 
embraced  Christianity  shows  the  drift  of  the  times. 
The  ethical  monotheism  of  the  Jew  of  the  disper- 
sion made  the  question  of  a  right  relation  with  God 
very  urgent,  but  the  sense  of  morality  which  it 
created  tended  to  cast  suspicion  on  ceremonial 
methods  of  all  kinds. 

The  truth  is  the  moral  sense  of  the  age  was 
running  far  in  advance  of  its  religious  supports. 
Conscience  was  driving  men  into  a  blind  alley. 
Political  and  social  changes  made  the  need  of 
moral  guidance  painfully  evident,  but  a  satis- 
factory moral  dynamic  was  not  forthcoming. 

Into  this  welter  of  faith  and  doubt,  of  insistent 
need  and  painful  questioning,  came  the  new  re- 
ligion. Could  Christianity  answer  the  great  ques- 
tion and  set  man  rio-ht  with  God?    Could  it  afford 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     57 

humanity  an  undisputed  status  before  the  Most 
High  ?  This  interest  in  rehgion  gave  Paul  and  his 
associates  a  pecuhar  opportunity.  The  world  was 
in  a  sense  prepared  for  Christianity.  We  must 
not  suppose,  however,  that  the  religious  interest 
of  the  time  was  a  self-conscious  and  deliberately 
intelligent  effort  to  criticise,  examine,  reject,  or 
accept  any  religion.  What  was  present  in  this 
age  was  a  tendency.  People  felt  that  the  old  no- 
tions would  not  do ;  they  were  haunted  by  a  sense 
of  moral  insecurity.  Religion  as  commonly  under- 
stood was  degraded  into  a  feeling  of  nervous- 
ness— an  unreasoning  dread  of  gods  and  daemons. 
They  were  very  uncertain  about  the  future.  This 
feeling  had  an  immense  powxr  for  tormenting 
people  simply  because  it  was  vague  and  inchoate. 
Dread  was  in  the  air,  like  a  poisonous  atmosphere. 
Men  questioned  the  next  step.  The  need  for  a 
clear  and  explicit  way  of  life  was  paramount. 

This  vague  sense  of  need  is  responsible  in  part 
for  the  early  descriptions  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity. Before  the  idea  of  the  church  took  defi- 
nite shape,  the  disciples  of  Christ  were  called  the 
people  of  the  way.  They  moved  through  the  world 
with  such  confidence  and  precision  that  people 
were  inclined  to  ask  them  the  reason  for  the  hope 
that  was  in  them,  and  they  could  only  reply: 
"We  have  sanctified  Christ  in  our  hearts  as  Lord." 


58  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  gospel  was  the  way  of  hfe.  It  is  also  re- 
sponsible for  certain  things  in  Paul's  epistles,  as 
when  he  discusses  Greek  philosophy  with  the  Cor- 
inthians, the  tyranny  of  elemental  spirits  with  the 
Colossians,  or  elaborates  the  great  doctrines  of 
the  faith  in  the  letter  to  the  Romans.  By  natural 
endowment  and  spiritual  experience  Paul  was 
fitted  to  apprehend  what  the  gentile  world  needed. 
He  gave  his  teaching  a  form  that  would  make  it 
intelhgible  to  that  restless  and  unstable  age. 

Before,  however,  we  begin  the  study  of  how  the 
background  influenced  Christian  teaching  we  must 
consider  in  detail  the  characteristic  forms  of  spirit- 
ual experience  manifested  by  certain  quests  for 
safe  conduct  then  current  in  the  Grgeco-Roman 
world.  We  must  try  to  understand  why  these 
methods  of  salvation  were  being  questioned  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Christian  era. 

The  first  of  these  ways  is  the  ritual  quest  for 
safe  conduct.  The  impulse  to  get  right  with  God 
by  means  of  ceremonial  performances  is  'the  oldest 
religious  quest  of  mankind.  The  belief  that  by 
means  of  external  observances  man  can  lay  the 
Eternal  under  tribute  is  deeply  rooted  in  human 
nature.  Salvation  by  ritual  is  the  religion  of  the 
natural  man,  simply  because  it  is  the  one  phase 
of  religious  experience  that  has  no  necessary  con- 
nection with  morality.     If  one  believe  in  the  ab- 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     59 

solute  efficacy  of  external  performances  he  will 
be  under  no  obligation  to  think  of  religion  as  a 
sanction  for  morals.  A  strictly  ritualistic  notion 
ordinarily  stifles  the  ethical  impulse.  It  intoxi- 
cates the  senses,  exploits  the  emotions,  debauches 
the  imagination,  and,  by  putting  the  conscience  to 
sleep,  enables  man  to  make  the  best  of  both  worlds. 
For  this  reason  ritual  has  always  been  popular 
with  the  masses.  The  aptitude  of  primitive  man 
for  religion  conceived  as  a  mythology  was  far  in 
excess  of  his  aptitude  for  material  comfort.  Long 
before  he  had  learned  how  to  make  adequate  pro- 
vision for  his  physical  necessities  he  had  elabo- 
rated a  scheme  of  worship  highly  ritualistic  in 
character.^  A  ritualistic  religion  cannot  create 
moral  sanctions.  What  usually  happens  is  that  the 
moral  sense  develops  independently  and  then  turns 
round  upon  the  ritual  and  transforms  it  ethically. 
This  was  the  conspicuous  service  rendered  to 
Greek  religion  by  the  sophists  of  the  fifth  century 
B.C. 

The  immense  popularity  of  ritual  forms  makes 
a  study  of  this  phase  of  religious  experience  very 
important.  The  ritual  quest  for  safe  conduct  was 
represented  in  the  Gr^eco-Roman  world  by  the 
mystery  religions,  which  came  for  the  most  part 

*  Fairbairn :  "The  Philosophy  of  the  Christian  Religion," 
pp.  188-189. 


60  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

from  the  East.  A  study  of  some  of  these  cults  is 
necessary  if  we  are  to  understand  the  rehgious 
situation  confronting  the  gospel  during  the  west- 
ward movement  of  Christianity.  Such  a  study 
will  show  how  they  prepared  the  way  for  Chris- 
tianity, not  only  because  they  intensified  the  need 
for  guidance,  but  also  because  of  their  signal  fail- 
ure to  furnish  it. 

It  is  difficult  for  us,  who  are  accustomed  to  think 
of  religion  in  terms  of  an  absolute  moral  impera- 
tive, to  estimate  the  power  of  ritual  in  the  re- 
ligion of  the  ancient  world.  It  was  powerful  in 
two  directions:  on  the  one  hand  it  captured  the 
imagination  by  its  splendid  appeals  to  the  senses. 
Even  so  confirmed  a  sceptic  as  Lucretius  con- 
fessed that  he  was  powerfully  impressed  by  the 
ritual  of  Magna  Mater.  On  the  other  hand  ritual' 
had  an  immense  influence  on  the  spirit  of  the  dev- 
otee. It  silenced  the  questioning  of  the  mind  and 
tranquillised  the  heart  by  the  realistic  precision  of 
its  modes  of  worship.  The  performance  of  ritual 
seemed  to  accomplish  a  reconciliation  with  the 
gods  in  a  visible  way. 

In  order  to  appreciate  the  power  of  such  ap- 
peals, let  us  suppose  that  you  were  convinced  that 
you  would  never  be  able  to  provide  a  reasonable 
competence  for  your  old  age;  and  you  were  as- 
sured if  you  would  memorise  and  recite  each  4th 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     61 

of  July  the  Declaration  of  Independence  before 
an  officer  of  the  United  States  provided  for  that 
purpose,  that  the  government  would  assume  en- 
tire responsibility  for  your  future,  you  would 
have  no  difficulty  in  accepting  this  proposition. 
And  this  was  the  sort  of  promise  made  by  these 
Oriental  cults.  As  Cumont  observes,  "if  a  Divin- 
ity was  invoked  according  to  the  correct  forms, 
especially  if  one  knew  how  to  pronounce  its  real 
name,  it  was  compelled  to  act  in  conformity  to 
the  will  of  its  priest.  The  sacred  words  were  an 
incantation  that  compelled  the  superior  powers  to 
obey  the  officiating  person,  no  matter  what  pur- 
pose he  had  in  view.  With  the  knowledge  of  the 
liturgy  men  acquired  an  immense  power  over  the 
world  of  spirits."  ^ 

These  promises  were  always  associated  with 
splendid  appeals  to  the  senses.  Naturally  they 
had  a  powerful  hold  on  the  masses  and  this  taken 
together  with  the  fact  that  the  cults  began  to 
spread  at  a  time  of  political  and  religious  unrest 
easily  accounts  for  their  popularity. 

We  must  keep  steadily  in  mind  the  material 
fact  that  these  cults  were  able  to  produce  the 
most  satisfactory  sort  of  impression  on  the  spirit 
of  the  worshipper.  It  is  easy  to  suggest  their  in- 
adequacy.   But  this  is  quite  immaterial.    The  fact 

^  "Oriental  Religions  in  Roman  Paganism,"  p.  93. 


62  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

is  these  cults  were  healing  and  consoling  influences 
in  a  profoundly  distressed  age,  and  some  knowl- 
edge of  them  is  required  if  we  are  to  understand 
the  forces  of  life  and  opinion  that  came  in  contact 
with  the  gospel. 

The  study  of  these  religions  is  very  difficult 
for  two  reasons:  first,  because  we  know  next  to 
nothing  about  their  rituals,  and  secondly,  because 
the  syncretic  tendency  was  present  from  the  be- 
ginning. The  interpretation  of  a  mystery  cult 
depends  for  the  most  part  on  some  knowledge  of 
its  ritual.  Its  essential  meaning  is  not  expressed 
in  a  theology,  but  in  forms  of  worship.  And  we 
know  little  of  the  ritual  because  it  was  performed 
in  secret.  It  was  open  to  the  initiate  only,  and 
rarely  came  to  the  knowledge  of  contemporary 
writers.  There  is  a  little  in  Plutarch;  we  have  a 
romantic  account  of  the  ritual  of  Isis  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Apuleius ;  Lucian  tells  us  something  of  the 
ritual  of  the  Syrian  Goddess,  but  these  notices 
are  of  little  value  in  forming  an  opinion  of  their 
nature  in  the  early  decades  of  the  first  century. 
Furthermore  these  cults  were  subject  to  the  syn- 
cretic tendency.  They  borrow,  modify  and  trans- 
form whatever  is  to  their  liking.  They  constantly 
react  on  each  other.  The  powerful  ethical  criti- 
cism of  the  time  was  forcing  the  pagan  theologians 
to  disavow  or  disguise  much  that  was  gross  and 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT    63 

repellent.  They  often  clothed  their  teachings  in 
the  best  and  most  popular  forms  of  other  re- 
ligions. The  result  is  that  the  religious  concep- 
tions of  the  early  part  of  the  first  century  lack 
distinctness.  Still  it  is  possible  to  consider  these 
cults  in  a  general  way.  We  shall  confine  our  at- 
tention, however,  to  the  mystery  religions  which 
came  to  Rome  from  the  Orient,  since  their  influ- 
ence best  illustrates  the  ritual  quest  for  God. 

There  were  at  least  four  Eastern  religions  be- 
sides Judaism  current  in  the  Roman  empire. 
These  religions  were:  the  Cybele-Attis  cult  which 
came  from  Phrygia;  certain  Syrian  nature  cults 
which  were  tending  towards  monotheism ;  the  Isis- 
Serapis  cult  which  came  from  Egypt,  and  last 
and  greatest  of  them  all,  the  cult  of  Mithra.  It 
has  been  clearly  shown  that  Mithra  had  little 
influence  in  the  empire  until  the  second  century 
of  our  era.  Such  scholars  as  Cumont,^  Kennedy,"^ 
Clemen,^  Dill,^  Schweitzer,^^  and  Harnack,^^  agree 
that  it  came  late  to  Rome.    Pompey,  if  we  are  to 


«Op.  Cit,  140. 

^  "St.  Paul  and  the  Mystery  Religions/*  pp.  114-115. 

^  "Primitive  Christianity  and  Its  Non- Jewish  Sources/* 
pp.  30-32. 

®  "Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  Marcus  Aurelius/'  pp. 
589-591. 

^°  "Paul  and  His  Interpreters/'  p.  186. 

^^  "The  Mission  and  Expansion  of  Christianity/'  Vol.  2, 
pp.  318-320. 


64  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

believe  Plutarch,  found  traces  of  Mithra  among 
the  Cihcian  pirates  in  the  first  century  B.  C;  the 
cult  was  probably  known  to  the  foreign  legionary 
in  the  provinces  long  before  it  reached  Rome ;  but 
there  is  no  reliable  evidence  that  Mithra  had  an 
important  influence  on  the  religious  situation  un- 
til the  second  century,  and  for  this  reason  it  has 
no  place  in  our  inquiry.  We  shall  limit  ourselves 
to  the  religions  known  to  have  had  an  influence  on 
current  opinion  at  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era. 

The  religious  notions  of  the  pagan  Semites  were 
propagated  in  the  early  empire  by  the  Syrian  mer- 
chant and  slave.  These  were  nature  cults  that 
originated  in  the  worship  of  the  vital  principle. 
In  the  beginning  they  were  gross  and  material- 
istic ;  but  while  the  Egyptian  was  never  quite  suc- 
cessful in  raising  his  gods  above  the  dust,  the 
Syrian  finally  lifted  his  conception  of  deity  to  the 
high  heavens.  As  Cumont,  our  chief  authority,  has 
pointed  out,  as  these  nature  m>i:hs  came  under 
the  influence  of  astrology,  the  notion  of  deity  they 
symbolised  was  refined  and  exalted  until  it  took 
the  form  of  a  God  beyond  the  stars,  whose  dwell- 
ing place  was  the  high  heavens,  in  short,  a  God 
Almighty.^ ^  Thus  these  Syrian  cults,  of  little 
value  otherwise,  assisted  other  religions  in  exalting 

12  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  127-129;  199. 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     65 

their  gods,  and  aided  in  the  spread  of  monotheism 
particularly  among  the  peoples  not  influenced  by 
Judaism.^  ^ 

The  Phrygian  religion  was  a  nature  cult  also, 
Cybele  was  the  mother  of  all  things,  the  goddess 
of  nature  and  especially  of  wild  nature.  She  was 
the  seat  of  the  vital  principle,  giving  the  seasons 
and  the  harvests,  sending  the  storm  and  the  rain, 
and  ruling  over  the  changing  year.  Early  in  her 
history  she  is  associated  with  a  strange  creature, 
called  Attis,  who  figures  as  her  consort.  In 
the  beginning  it  is  a  tale  of  vulgar  passion  and 
self -mutilation ;  but  Attis  slowly  evolves  into  a 
S}Tiibol  of  the  changing  seasons,  and  finally  be- 
comes a  dying  and  reviving  god.  The  cult  was 
served  by  mutilated  priests,  and  its  worship  was  a 
wild  frenzy  very  like  that  of  the  cult  of  Dionysus 
in  ancient  Greece. 

This  Eastern  religion  came  to  Rome  in  204  B.  C. 
under  very  interesting  circumstances.  The  crisis 
occasioned  by  the  Second  Punic  War  compelled 
the  Romans  to  consult  the  Sibyls,  and  as  a  measure 
of  state  policy  they  advised  the  introduction  of  a 
new  religion.  They  even  went  so  far  as  to  sug- 
gest the  propriety  of  bringing  the  Great  JMother 
to  Rome.    Acting  on  this  suggestion  the  Romans 

^^  On  the  general  tendency  towards  monotheism  in  the 
last  century  of  the  Republic,  see  Fowler's  "Roman  Ideas  of 
Deity/'  Lecture  2. 


66  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

sent  an  embassy  to  Phrygia,  and  Cybele,  symbol- 
ised by  an  old  black  stone,  was  brought  in  splen- 
did state  to  assume  her  sway  over  the  city  of  the 
seven  hills.  The  stone  was  deposited  in  the  Temple 
of  Victory  on  the  Palatine  April  4th,  and  this  day 
was  made  a  festival.  The  Romans,  being  espe- 
cially anxious  to  preserve  the  foreign  character  of 
the  cult,  gave  the  festival  a  Greek  name,  "the  Me- 
galesia."  Thirteen  years  later  a  temple  was  ded- 
icated to  the  Great  Mother  but  for  many  years 
the  Romans  were  forbidden  by  senatorial  enact- 
ment to  take  any  part  in  her  worship.^  ^  In  spite 
of  this  Cybele  flourished.  Her  worship  was  highly 
offensive  to  Roman  taste  and  it  remained  a  re- 
ligion of  a  foreign  minority  until  the  empire,  when 
it  rapidly  grew  in  influence.  It  retained  its  hold 
until  the  fourth  century  when  it  was  finally  ab- 
sorbed into  the  cult  of  Mithra.  The  Romans  de- 
spised the  mutilated  priests  but  were  powerfully 
influenced  by  the  worship.  Magna  Mater  was 
very  attractive  to  women.  She  had  no  theology, 
gave  unrestrained  expression  to  the  emotions  and 
depended  entirely  on  her  frenzied  forms  of  wor- 
ship. 

The  cult  of  Isis-Serapis  came  to  Rome  from 
Alexandria  a  century  before  the  Christian  era. 
This  syncretic  religion  was  devised  by  the  Ptol- 

^*  Fowler:     "Roman  Festivals,"  p.  70. 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     67 

emies  as  a  political  expedient.  It  was  an  effort 
to  merge  the  Egyptian  cult  of  Isis-Osiris  with 
popular  Greek  conceptions  for  the  purpose  of 
welding  together  the  foreign  subjects  of  the  em- 
pire. It  is  likely  that  the  Eleusinian  and  Orphic 
mysteries  had  something  to  do  with  this  trans- 
formation. This  cult,  like  that  of  Magna  JNIater, 
remained  a  religion  of  a  foreign  minority  until 
the  empire,  after  which,  in  spite  of  repeated 
efforts  to  suppress  it,  it  gained  a  vast  influence  in 
Rome,  especially  among  women.  Osiris,  like  At- 
tis,  was  a  dying  and  reviving  god,  but  the  chief 
contribution  of  Isis  was  her  tremendous  emphasis 
of  ritual, 

All  these  cults  had  many  gross  elements.  Their 
frenzied  forms  of  worship  were  offensive  to  the 
Roman  sense  of  decorum.  They  had,  and  this 
must  be  kept  steadily  in  mind,  little  or  no  con- 
nection with  morality.  But  in  spite  of  obvious 
limitations  they  propagated  certain  religious  con- 
ceptions hitherto  foreign  to  the  Roman  tempera- 
ment, which  were  not  only  attractive  to  the  people 
but  of  great  utility  in  the  spread  of  Christianity. 
Their  wide  influence  shows  the  drift  of  the  times. 
The  people  were  looking  for  certain  things  in  re- 
ligion and  they  found  them  in  these  cults.  What 
were  some  of  these  things?    If  we  know  this  we 


68  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

can  understand  the  sort  of  religion  the  age  was 
prepared  to  accept. 

The  mystery  religions  emphasised  the  idea  of 
personal  immortality.  To  the  disillusioned  Roman, 
burdened  with  a  sense  of  existence  in  a  world  of 
political  and  social  disorder,  aware  of  the  futility 
of  philosophy  and  no  longer  able  to  believe  in  the 
pale  abstractions  of  the  native  rehgion,  the  ap- 
peal of  these  warm,  sensuous  cults  of  the  East  was 
almost  irresistible.  He  was  offended  by  the 
frenzied  worsliip,  he  despised  the  effeminate  and 
mutilated  priests,  but  he  was  powerfully  impressed 
by  their  splendid  promises.  They  offered  union 
with  the  life  of  the  gods  through  certain  visible 
and  compelling  sacraments.  To  observe  a  cere- 
mony or  submit  to  a  purification  conferred  a  last- 
ing benefit.  They  used  ritual  performances  with 
great  skill  and  effectiveness.  The  initiate  always 
had  a  definite  transaction  with  deity;  something 
invariably  happened  to  him;  the  ritual  never 
failed.  Ceremonial  brought  the  worshipper  into 
direct  contact  with  divinity  and  he  became  an 
enthusiast — a  man  full  of  the  gods.  It  was  natural 
that  the  starved  imagination  of  the  people  should 
welcome  the  splendid  ceremonial  of  the  East  in 
place  of  the  cold  and  repulsive  abstractions  of  the 
old  Roman  religion. 

These  cults  were  served  by  a  non-secular  priest- 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     69 

hood,  a  new  thing  in  those  days.  A  priest  of  the 
Roman  religion  was  an  officer  of  the  state,  and 
religious  observances  were  parts  of  public  duty. 
The  new  cults  by  comparison  familiarised  the  peo- 
ple with  the  idea  of  a  personal  and  non-political 
religion.  The  temples  of  the  native  religion  were 
government  buildings:  units  of  a  political  organ- 
isation; the  new  cults  were  directed  by  ministers 
whose  only  function  was  religious  and  the  ritual 
was  performed  in  an  open  church.  The  temples 
were  open  at  all  times;  there  were  daily  services 
and  the  gods  were  always  accessible.  The  oppor- 
tunity of  taking  part  at  all  times  in  religious  serv- 
ices would  naturally  appeal  to  a  people  whose 
notions  of  worship  had  hitherto  been  limited  to 
state  ceremonials. 

We  cannot  overestimate  the  attraction  of  the 
open  churches  and  the  non-secular  clergy.  The 
old  Roman  religion  at  its  very  best  was  a  cold,  ab- 
stract sort  of  thing.  It  was  a  state  religion  rather 
than  a  religion  for  the  individual.  Its  religious 
books  were  as  dry  as  law  reports  while  its  con- 
ception of  decorum  was  not  calculated  to  appeal 
very  strongly  to  the  emotions.  It  made  little 
use  of  the  imagination  and  deliberately  discouraged 
enthusiasm.  The  new  cults  on  the  other  hand  were 
warm,  sensuous,  and  passionate.  They  deliber- 
ately appealed  to  the  emotions,  and  exploited  the 


70  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

imagination.  They  were  personal  religions  ad- 
justed to  individual  need.  Worship  was  not 
an  affair  of  political  duty  but  an  invariable  ex- 
pression of  personal  preference.  Such  an  appeal 
was  calculated  to  meet  the  craving  of  the  time  for 
a  larger  expression  of  individuahty.  Men  were 
acutely  conscious  of  personal  needs,  they  were 
looking  for  a  personal  religion.  They  wanted 
(and  who  can  blame  them)  a  religion  adjusted 
to  the  emergencies  of  every  day  life ;  and  the  open 
church,  the  daily  services,  and  the  non-secular 
clergy  met  the  need  for  the  time  being  in  a  very 
satisfactory  way. 

These  cults  also  provided  a  new  conception  of 
social  relationships.  Under  the  old  regime  the 
ordinary  basis  of  fellowship  was  the  family,  the 
clan,  and  the  city-state.  Worshippers  of  national 
deities  were  never  free  from  a  feeling  of  isolation. 
The  people  were  kept  apart  by  a  rigid  caste  sys- 
tem. The  Romans,  especially  in  that  unstable 
time,  were  suspicious  of  all  voluntary  associa- 
tions that  were  not  in  accord  with  established  cus- 
tom. But  the  city-state  with  its  exclusive  solidar- 
ity was  gone.  The  world  was  adrift  on  the  tide  of 
empire  and  cosmopolitaniiSm  made  men  lonely. 
It  aroused  while  it  could  not  satisfy  their  social 
instincts.  The  freedmen,  rapidly  rising  in  wealth, 
culture  and  independence,  demanded  a  new  basis 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     71 

for  social  fellowship,  a  bond  more  in  harmony  with 
individual  necessity.  The  new  cults  were  pecu- 
liarly fitted  to  meet  this  need.  They  were  essen- 
tially social  and  democratic.  They  expressed  the 
feeling  of  John  Wesley  that  "people  should  go  to 
heaven  in  companies  and  not  one  by  one."  All 
men,  without  regard  to  their  previous  condition, 
became  brothers  in  the  temples  of  the  gods.  Master 
and  man,  freedman  and  slave  found  themselves 
associated  on  terms  of  equality  in  the  daily  wor- 
ship. The  brotherhood  had  a  community  supper 
which  symbolised  this  new  relationship.  By  plac- 
ing a  new  value  on  the  individual,  by  opening 
avenues  of  escape  from  the  loneliness  of  the 
time,  these  new  religions  were  able  to  satisfy  the 
social  hunger  that  was  then  everywhere  evident 
in  the  organisation  of  guilds  and  fellowships, 
burial  societies  and  fraternities  of  various  sorts: 
ostensibly  founded  on  business  or  economic  in- 
terests, but  in  reahty  manifesting  the  longing  for 
relationships  of  a  social  kind  more  in  harmony 
with  individual  need.  By  turning  social  passion 
into  religious  channels  these  cults  made  it  easier 
to  form  Christian  copimunities  among  peoples  al- 
ready familiar  with  the  form  and  desirabihty  of 
such  associations.^^ 

^^  For  an  interesting  account  of  the  social  passion  of  tlie 
age,  see  Dill:  "Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  ]\Iarciis  Au- 
relius,"  Book  II,  Chapter  3. 


72  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

These  cults  were  called  mystery  religions  be- 
cause they  had  secret  rites  and  esoteric  doctrines. 
The  elaborate  ceremony  of  initiation  was  cal- 
culated to  arouse  the  curiosity  and  eventually  to 
develop  the  latent  mysticism  of  the  time  into  a 
powerful  spiritual  influence. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  these  cults  had 
little  or  no  connection  with  morality.  They  were 
sacramental  religions  rather  than  moral  dynamics, 
and  quite  indulgent  of  himian  frailty.  This  was 
particularly  true  of  the  cult  of  Isis.  She  was,  as 
Cumont  truly  observes,  "honoured  especially  by 
the  women  with  whom  love  was  a  profession"  and 
her  temples  were  often  scenes  of  disgraceful  in- 
trigue.^ ^  Still  the  power  of  these  religions  was 
great.  They  maintained  their  influence  in  the  face 
of  persecution,  and  devotees  were  sometimes  capa- 
ble of  martyrdom.  They  were  capable  of  giving 
peace  and  consolation  to  a  melancholy  age.  It  was 
faith  in  the  absolute  efficacy  of  ritual  perform- 
ances that  reconciled  the  orderly  Roman  to  the 
orgiastic  genuflections  of  Cybele's  eunuch  priests. 
It  was  faith  in  her  power  to  save  that  prompted 
proud  Roman  matrons  to  bathe  in  the  chilly  Tiber 
in  winter,  or  walk  round  the  temple  of  Isis  on 
their  bleeding  knees.  Satirists  like  Juvenal  might 
scoff  at  these  things,  but  it  matters  little.  Many 
i^Op.  Cit.,  p.  90. 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     73 

poor  disillusioned  people  found  in  the  service  of 
these  strange  Eastern  religions  a  peace  and  con- 
solation they  could  not  obtain  from  the  old  native 
faith. 

The  popularity  of  these  cults  taken  together 
with  their  history  is  a  supreme  example  of  the 
success  and  failure  of  a  ritualistic  religion.  Ritual 
is  powerful  so  long  as  conscience  is  dormant,  but 
once  rouse  the  moral  sense  and  it  will  turn  upon 
ritual  and  either  reject  it  entirely  or  modify  it  so 
as  to  destroy  its  original  form.  This  process  of 
transformation  was  undoubtedly  going  on  as 
early  as  the  first  century.  Parallel  with  the  spread 
of  these  cults  was  a  growing  etliical  movement  rep- 
resented by  certain  philosophies,  particularly  Stoi- 
cism. No  religion,  least  of  all  such  cults  as  these, 
can  withstand  the  transforming  criticism  of  ethics, 
and  it  was  a  regnant  morahty  that  gradually  un- 
dermined tlieir  influence. 

This  came  about  partly  through  syncretism,  and 
partly  by  supersession.  In  the  fourth  century  of 
our  era  paganism  was  transformed  and  confronted 
Christianity  in  the  religion  of  Mithra,  but  IVIithra 
finally  yielded  to  the  Man  of  Galilee.  In  the 
early  decades  of  the  first  century,  however,  the 
influence  of  ethics  is  represented  by  a  tendency 
to  borrow  ideas  and  practices  from  other  rehgions, 


74  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

and  the  effort  to  bring  conduct  into  conformity 
with  moral  requirements. 

The  conflict  between  ritual  and  ethics  may  be 
illustrated  by  a  consideration  of  the  question  of 
origins.  How  would  these  cults  appear  when  con- 
trasted with  a  religion  like  Christianity? 

A  fourth  century  impression  of  the  conflict 
between  ethics  and  ritual  is  thus  summed  up  by 
Cumont ;  "Never  was  the  lack  of  harmony  greater 
between  the  moralising  tendencies  of  theolo- 
gians and  the  cruel  shamelessness  of  tradition.  A 
god  held  up  as  the  august  lord  of  the  universe  was 
the  pitiful  and  abject  hero  of  an  obscene  love 
affair.  .  .  .  The  men  of  letters  and  senators  at- 
tending those  mysteries  saw  them  performed  by 
painted  eunuchs,  ill  reputed  for  their  infamous 
morals,  who  went  through  dizzy  dances  similar  to 
those  of  the  dancing  dervishes.  .  .  .  We  can  im- 
agine the  repugnance  these  ceremonies  caused  in 
everybody  whose  judgment  had  not  been  de- 
stroyed by  a  fanatical  devotion."  ^^ 

But  the  disposition  to  bring  tradition  to  the 
test  of  ethics  was  very  powerful  even  in  the  first 
century.  The  moral  character  of  the  priests  was 
severely  condemned  by  Petronius  and  Juvenal. 
A  century  later  the  devotees  of  these  cults  did  not 
escape  the  scorn  of  Lucian  and  Apuleius.     And 

1^  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  71-72. 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     75 

if  one  were  disposed  to  follow  the  tradition  of 
Attis  or  Osiris  to  its  source  one  came  upon  coarse 
nature  myths,  and  the  portentous  figures  which 
bulked  so  largely  in  the  imagination  even  of  the 
first  century  turned  out  to  be  symbols  only.  It 
was  far  otherwise  with  the  Christian  tradition. 
Trace  this  to  its  origin  and  you  come  upon  the 
historic  figiu'e  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  a  man  ap- 
proved of  God,  abounding  in  good  works;  holy, 
harmless,  and  undefiled,  separate  from  sinners. 
It  was  the  tremendous  contrast  between  a  Person 
of  historic  reality,  and  a  series  of  myths  and  sym- 
bols rising  out  of  the  superstitions  of  the  past 
that  finally  discredited  the  mystery  religions  and 
led  to  the  triumph  of  the  church. 

It  was  the  demand  for  an  historic  basis  for  re- 
ligious tradition  that  inspired  the  writing  of  the 
gospels.  The  church  on  gentile  soil  had  no  re- 
ligious books  except  the  Greek  version  of  the 
Old  Testament  and  occasional  letters  to  individual 
communities.  Christians  depended  in  the  begin- 
ning on  oral  tradition.  They  received  Jesus  Christ 
as  their  Saviour  upon  the  testimony  of  the  Apos- 
tles. But  so  soon  as  Christianity  came  into  con- 
tact with  other  cults  the  question  was  bound  to 
rise :  Did  the  glorious  Saviour  of  Apostolic  preach- 
ing have  a  beginning  in  history?  Was  He  a  real 
Personality,  or  was   He  like  Cybele  or  Isis,  a 


76  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

myth  also?  Was  Christ  a  symbol  of  God,  or  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh?  In  some  respects  the  real 
problem  of  the  Apostles  in  dealing  with  gentiles 
was  not  to  convince  them  that  Jesus  was  God, 
but  to  prove  the  reality  of  His  human  and  earthly 
life.  They  were  obliged  to  show  that  Jesus  was 
an  historic  Person.  In  response  to  this  need  the 
first  gospels  were  written.  We  cannot  easily  meas- 
ure the  power  of  these  simple  narratives — the  art- 
less simplicity  of  Mark,  or  the  gracious  human- 
ism of  Luke — in  affording  historical  realism  to  a 
glorious  tradition.  Back  of  Apostolic  preaching 
was  this  historic  Personality,  the  life,  death  and 
resurrection  of  the  world's  Redeemer;  and  as 
this  preaching  created  and  sustained  the  purest 
form  of  morality  consecrated  as  it  was  by  faith  in 
the  Divine  Master,  it  was  inevitable  that  the  age 
should  realise  that  a  new  and  distinct  power  had 
come  into  the  world. 

It  is  true  that  the  Oriental  mystery  religions 
aided  in  the  spread  of  ideas  favourable  to  Chris- 
tianity. They  made  the  Romans  familiar  with 
such  notions  as  immortality,  salvation,  purifica- 
tion, redemption,  a  non-secular  clergy,  an  open 
church,  a  brotherhood  based  on  religious  relation- 
ships, in  short  with  the  conception  of  personal 
religion.    But  the  difference  between  Christianity 


THE  RITUAL  QUEST  FOR  SAFE  CONDUCT     77 

and  these  cults  was  fundamental.     At  bottom  it 
was  an  ethical  difference. 

In  regard  to  this  difference  the  conclusions  of 
Prof.  Fowler  are  very  convincing.    After  show- 
ing in  his  masterly  treatment  of  "The  Religious 
Experience  of  the  Roman  People"  how  far  the  old 
Roman  religion  as  well  as  these  Eastern  cults  had 
aided  in  the  spread  of  ideas  favourable  to  the  new 
faith,  he  says:  "All  this  taken  together,  so  far 
from  explaining  Christianity,  does  not  help  us 
much  in  getting  to  understand  even  the  conditions 
under  which  it  grew  into  men's  minds  as  a  new 
power  in  the  life  of  the  world.    The  plant,  though 
grown  in  soil  which  had  borne  other  crops,  was 
wholly  new  in  stiTicture  and  vital  principle.     I 
say  this  deliberately  after  spending  so  many  years 
on  the  study  of  the  religion  of  the  Romans,  and 
making  myself  acquainted  in  some  measure  with 
the  rehgions  of  other  peoples.    The  essential  dif- 
ference, as  it  appears  to  me,  as  a  student  of  the 
history  of  religion,  is  this :  that,  whereas,  the  con- 
nection between  religion  and  morality  had  so  far 
been  a  loose  one  at  Rome,  indeed,  so  loose,  that 
many  have  refused  to  believe  in  its  existence,  the 
new  religion  was  itself  morality,  but  morality  con- 
secrated and  raised  to  a  higher  power  than  it  had 
ever  yet  reached.  ...  I  confess  that  I  never  rea- 
lised this  contrast  fully  or  intelhgently  until  I 


78  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

read  through  the  Pauhne  epistles  from  beginning 
to  end  with  a  special  historical  object  in  view.  It 
is  useful  to  be  familiar  with  the  life  and  literature 
of  the  two  preceding  centuries,  if  only  to  be  able 
the  better  to  reahse  in  passing  to  St.  Paul,  a 
Roman  citizen,  a  man  of  education  and  experi- 
ence, the  great  gulf  fixed  between  the  old  and  the 
new,  as  he  himself  saw  it."^^ 

This  impressive  statement  confirms  the  judg- 
ment of  an  earlier  scholar  who  says  that  when  "the 
attention  of  a  thinking  heathen  was  directed  to 
the  new  religion  spreading  in  the  Roman  empire, 
the  first  thing  to  strike  him  as  extraordinary  would 
be  that  a  religion  of  prayer  was  superseding  the 
religion  of  ceremonies  and  invocation  of  gods."^^ 

But  these  Oriental  cults  came  under  the  influ- 
ence of  ethical  criticism  before  they  were  brought 
into  contact  with  Christianity.  Salvation  by  ritual 
was  confronted  with  salvation  by  ethics.  This 
brings  us  to  the  ethical  quest  for  safe  conduct,  to 
which  we  shall  turn  our  attention  in  the  next  lec- 
ture. 

18  Pp.  465-466. 

^^  Dollinger :      "The   First   Age   of   Christianity   and   the 
Church,"  p.  344;  quoted  by  Fowler;  Op.  Cit.^  p.  468. 


LECTURE   III 

THE   ETHICAL   QUEST   AMONG   THE   GREEKS 


LECTURE    III 

THE   ETHICAL   QUEST   AMONG   THE   GREEKS 

Man's  primitive  religious  impulse  is  "an  effective 
desire  to  be  in  right  relation  to  the  Power  mani- 
festing itself  in  the  universe."  By  universe  we 
may  mean  the  world  without,  made  up  of  sensible 
impressions,  or  the  world  within,  made  up  of 
thoughts  and  desires.  Where  God  is  conceived  as 
manifesting  Himself  through  the  external  world 
the  desire  to  be  in  right  relation  to  Him  will  or- 
dinarily express  itself  in  ritual  forms,  and  religion 
will  be  used  as  a  screen.  But  where  God  is  con- 
ceived as  manifesting  Himself  through  the  in- 
ternal world,  the  effort  to  be  in  right  relation  to 
Him  will  express  itself  as  a  phase  of  moral  ideal- 
ism, and  religion  will  become  a  way  of  life. 

Primitive  man  was  interested  in  religion  be- 
cause he  wanted  to  be  at  home  in  the  world,  but 
when  the  moral  sense  developed,  the  desire  for 
right  relations  was  transformed  into  a  quest  for 
safe  conduct.  This  singular  change  is  best  illus- 
trated in  the  religious  experience  of  the  Greeks. 
The  aim  of  Greek  religion,  as  Lowes  Dickinson 

81 


82  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

has  suggested,  was  to  make  man  at  home  in  the 
world.  The  easiest  way  to  do  this  was  to  make  the 
gods  in  man's  image.  The  infinite  was  broken 
up  into  finite  parts,  and  each  part  was  personal- 
ised, localised,  and  worshipped  in  detail.  The  gods 
were  founders  of  the  Greek  race,  and  the  first  citi- 
zens of  the  city-state.  They  were  very  like  men; 
their  passions  and  desires  were  altogether  human. 
This  conception  of  religion  is  expressed  in  the  Ho- 
meric poems  and  for  a  long  period  was  entirely 
satisfactory.  The  religious  impulse  developed  the 
ritual,  and  the  ritual  was  a  screen  which  tempered 
the  light  of  the  eternal  and  enabled  man  to  be  at 
home  in  the  world. 

But  occasionally  this  screen  was  penetrated  by 
a  trenchant  criticism,  which  eventually  introduced 
a  disturbing  element  into  the  Greek  religious  con- 
sciousness. The  earliest  Greek  philosophers  were 
physicists  whose  main  interest  was  in  the  study  of 
natural  phenomena,  still  they  came  to  devote  a 
great  deal  of  attention  to  moral  questions.  The 
moral  aspects  of  life  appealed  very  powerfully  to 
the  poetic  temperament,  and  philosophers  and 
poets  working  from  different  points  of  view  were 
able  seriously  to  disturb  the  primitive  content- 
ment. "The  evolution  of  theological  and  religious 
thought  in  Greece  may  be  regarded  as  the  re- 
sult of  the  action  and  interaction  of  the  two  rival 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      SS 

principles  of  orthodoxy  and  dissent.  .  .  .  On  the 
one  hand  the  poets,  especially  Pindar,  ^schylus, 
and  Sophocles,  without  abandoning  the  old  Ho- 
meric anthropomorphism,  gradually  purified  and 
spiritualised  the  elements  of  religious  idealism  al- 
ready contained  in  the  Homeric  poems.  .  .  .  On 
the  other  hand  the  pre-Socratic  philosophers  were 
more  and  more  led  by  their  physical  speculations 
towards  a  view  of  the  universe  in  which  no  room 
was  left  for  the  Homeric  gods,  and  began  to  ex- 
press their  dissent  at  a  very  early  period  of  Greek 
thought."^  The  sombre  idea  of  Fate  or  Nemesis 
came  to  the  service  of  man's  somnolent  moral  na- 
ture and  awoke  the  conscience  to  a  keen  criticism 
not  only  of  popular  religious  traditions  but  also 
of  the  conduct  of  life.  As  the  moral  nature  de- 
veloped man  became  aware  that  he  was  not  as 
much  at  home  in  the  world  as  he  used  to  be.  Re- 
ligion could  no  longer  serve  as  a  screen  because 
it  could  not  satisfy  the  needs  of  conscience,  and  the 
desire  for  safe  conduct  through  this  life  became 
a  dominant  passion. 

The  need  for  safe  conduct  was  very  acutely  felt 
in  the  fifth  century  B.  C.  This  was  the  age  of 
enlightenment,  the  period  of  the  sophists  and  the 
poet  Euripides.  For  one  thing  philosophers  were 
becoming  deeply  interested  in  the  moral  aspect  of 

^  Adam:    "The  Religious  Teachers  of  Greece/*  pp,  18-19. 


84.  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

life.  They  had  discovered  the  world  of  spirit 
which  augmented  the  moral  imperatives  of  life 
and  developed  the  notion  of  individual  respon- 
sibility and  the  worth  of  personality.  The  Greek 
genius  for  intellectual  activity  was  fully  born  in 
that  age.  From  this  came  a  disposition  to  ex- 
amine, criticise  and  modify  traditions  of  all  kinds. 
"The  age  of  the  sophists,"  according  to  Zeller, 
"was  a  period  of  fermentation  preceding  the  age 
of  construction." 

The  sophists  aimed  to  teach  goodness,  by  which 
they  meant  "the  art  of  succeeding  in  a  democratic 
state,  when  you  do  not  yourself  belong  to  the 
ruling  democracy,  and  in  particular,  the  art  of 
getting  off  when  you  are  attacked  in  the  courts 
of  law."  ^  This  was  a  peculiar  sort  of  goodness, 
and  doubtless  the  profession  had  a  questionable 
side;  still  the  original  aim  of  the  sophists  was  to 
teach  men  to  think  for  themselves,  especially  on 
moral  questions.  They  believed  in  the  divine  right 
of  the  individual  as  opposed  to  the  arbitrary  au- 
thority of  tradition.  This  tendency  of  the  fifth 
century  is  best  illustrated  by  the  teaching  of  Pro- 
tagoras. He  is  remembered  chiefly  for  his  famous 
aphorism,  "Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things."  He 
was  the  first  of  the  pragmatists,  holding  that  truth 

^Burnet:  "Greek  Philosophy,  Thales  to  Plato,"  pp. 
109-110. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      85 

was  relative  to  the  individual.  The  test  of  truth 
was  its  practical  consequences,  its  essential  utility.^ 
Applying  this  principle  to  religion  he  distin- 
guished between  traditional  conceptions  and  moral 
relations  which  had  to  do  with  the  conduct  of 
life.  He  did  not  care  to  break  violently  with 
ancient  traditions;  it  was  in  fact  highly  inexpedi- 
ent to  do  so;  but  he  acted  on  the  assumption  that 
in  essential  things  it  was  best  to  follow  the  custom 
of  the  country.  In  all  other  matters  he  advised 
men  to  think  for  themselves. 

The  growing  feeling  of  individual  importance 
which  was  the  distinguishing  feature  of  this  age 
tended  to  clarify  the  need  for  safe  conduct.  It 
made  the  question  of  moral  guidance  an  object  of 
inquiry  and  transmitted  the  problem  of  its  solu- 
tion to  the  next  age. 

This  brings  us  to  Socrates,  the  first  ethical 
thinker  among  the  Greeks.  There  were  two  quali- 
ties of  his  personality  which  must  be  kept  steadily 
in  mind.  One  was  his  immense  intellectual  power, 
the  other  his  mj^stical,  or  shall  I  venture  to  call  it, 
his  religious  temperament.  These  qualities  en- 
abled him  to  render  a  dual  service  to  his  age, 
first  of  diagnosis,  and  second  of  construction. 

He  had  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  power  of 

^  For  a  different  view,  see  Gomperz:     "Greek  Thinkers," 
Vol.  I,  pp.  450-454. 


86  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

moral  diagnosis.  He  seems  to  ask:  What  is  the 
matter  with  this  age?  The  peoi^le  were  richly 
endowed  intellectually,  of  political  sagacity  and 
artistic  sensibility,  yet  in  spite  of  this  they  were 
not  happy.  It  was  easy  to  trace  this  unhappiness 
to  evil.  ]\Ien  put  true  for  false  and  false  for  true. 
They  followed  delusions  of  various  kinds,  and 
of  ten  mistook  shadows  for  substance.  Why?  Be- 
cause they  did  not  know,  because  they  would  not 
think.  They  followed  opinion  rather  than  knowl- 
edge. They  were  chiefly  ignorant  of  themselves, 
of  their  capacities,  limitations  and  needs.  It  is 
interesting  to  observe  that  more  than  three  cen- 
turies earlier  Isaiah  was  saying  the  same  thing 
about  his  age:  "The  ox  knoweth  his  owner,  and 
the  ass  his  master's  crib :  but  Israel  doth  not  know, 
my  people  doth  not  consider."  ^ 

According  to  Socrates  man's  misery  was  rooted 
in  ignorance.  His  remedy  for  evil  was  knowl- 
edge, and  his  ruling  j)rinciple  the  Delphic  con- 
ception, "Know  thyself." 

The  key  to  his  view  of  human  nature  is  found 
in  the  phrase,  "No  man  errs  of  his  own  free  will." 
He  did  not  believe  that  man  would  deliberately 
choose  evil,  or  reject  the  good.  Therefore  his 
remedy  for  evil  is  a  sort  of  moral  intellectualism. 
In  and  out  of  season  he  laboured  to  teach  men  to 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      87 

think  for  themselves.  His  favourite  method  of 
attack  was  by  means  of  a  series  of  skilful  ques- 
tions to  expose  the  fallacies  lurking  in  generally 
accepted  phrases  so  as  to  produce  confusion  and 
perplexity  in  the  mind  of  his  hearer.  He  would 
then  ascertain  the  truth  underlying  current  ideas 
and  endeavour  to  lead  his  disciples  to  form  sound 
convictions.  He  had  the  wise  man's  healthy  con- 
tempt for  popular  opinion;  he  was  passionately 
interested  in  fundamental  principles,  because  he 
believed  that  once  in  touch  with  principles  a  man 
would  naturally  go  right.  In  other  words,  he 
believed  that  knowledge  and  goodness  were  iden- 
tical, that  knowledge  was  power,  and  in  so  far  as 
virtue  was  knowledge  it  could  be  taught.  His 
scheme  then  of  safe  conduct  was  one  of  self- 
education. 

Socrates  did  the  world  a  great  service  when  he 
taught  men  to  reflect.  There  is  much  to  justify 
the  notion  that  evil  is  due  to  ignorance,  or  even 
to  a  more  subtle  thing,  a  want  of  clearness  in  one's 
thinking.  It  is  a  difficult  and  an  important  thing, 
this  thinking  for  one's  self.  But  while  we  must 
recognise  the  place  of  self-knowledge  in  any 
scheme  of  life  it  is  easy  to  point  out  the  weak- 
ness of  the  Socratic  position.  If  knowledge  were 
always  power  the  principle  would  be  a  valid  one, 
but  it  is  now  a  commonplace  of  ethical  thinking, 


88  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

expressed  long  ago  by  Ovid:  "I  see  the  good  and 
approve  it,  but  deliberately  practise  the  wrong," 
or  better  still  in  the  words  of  Paul,  "To  will  is 
present  with  me,  but  how  to  perform  that  which 
is  good,  I  find  not."  Socrates  had  discovered  one 
of  the  reasons  for  human  defection,  but  it  did  not 
go  to  the  root  of  the  matter.  He  does  not  ap- 
pear to  have  had  a  clear  notion  of  human  perver- 
sity, and  he  is  especially  ignorant  of  the  power  of 
a  lawless  will. 

^  The  important  aspect  of  his  service  was  not 
in  the  problems  he  settled,  but  in  giving  an  ethical 
direction  to  the  mental  inquiry  of  his  time.  From 
his  day  ethical  questions  had  a  definite  place  in 
Greek  thought.  It  is  not  easy  to  overpraise  his 
ethical  passion.  His  wonder  at  the  newly  aroused 
sense  of  individual  importance,  his  confidence  in 
the  power  of  clear  thinking,  and  his  splendid,  if 
too  optimistic,  faith  in  the  natural  goodness  of 
human  nature  arouse  our  admiration.  The  bet- 
terment of  humanity  was  the  aim  of  this  Silenus- 
faced  philosopher.  He  had  little  interest  in  specu- 
lation for  its  own  sake,  he  did  his  thinking  in  be- 
half of  a  good  life ;  and  if  his  remedy  is  inadequate 
it  is  due  in  great  measure  to  his  downright  sin- 
cerity. He  was  so  passionately  devoted  to  his 
ideal  and  so  conscientious  in  his  endeavour  to 
attain  it  that  he  could  not  believe  in  the  inaptitude 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS       89 

for  moral  strenuousness  which  later  thinkers  found 
so  characteristic  of  human  nature. 

There  is,  too,  in  the  teaching  of  Socrates  a  sort 
of  religious  fervour.  He  believed  that  he  was 
guided  in  all  things  by  a  good  daemon.  The 
Spirit  of  God  was  his  monitor,  "and  the  remark- 
able thing  about  it,"  says  Burnet,  "was  that  it 
never  prompted  him  to  do  anything;  it  only  op- 
posed something  he  was  about  to  do."  ^  This  be- 
lief in  an  inner  voice,  this  confidence  in  the  guid- 
ance of  a  spiritual  monitor  higher  than  man  which 
frequently  gives  to  his  teaching  a  kind  of  re- 
ligious authority,  suggests  the  instability  of  his 
main  contention;  for  so  soon  as  man's  conscience 
is  developed  by  a  growing  knowledge  of  the  moral 
ideal,  its  ethical  demands  will  far  exceed  his  ability 
to  satisfy  them,  and  the  consequence  is  a  rift  in  the 
soul  which  destroys  faith  in  the  innate  goodness  of 
human  nature  and  sets  man  on  a  fresh  quest  for 
God. 

This  was  what  took  place  in  the  thinking  of 
Socrates'  greatest  disciple.  Plato's  thinking  illus- 
trates the  truth  that  when  man  earnestly  seeks 
to  understand  himself,  he  finds  not  only  himself, 
but  God. 

Plato  followed  the  master's  suggestions  to  their 
logical  conclusions  and  by  constructing  his  doc- 

5  Op.  Cit.,  p.   130. 


90  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

trine  of  ideas,  he  developed  the  highest  type  of 
monotheism  in  Greek  philosophy.  But  with  this 
fresh  sense  of  Divine  realitj^  came  a  new  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature.  Protagoras  had  said  that 
"man  was  the  measure  of  all  things."  But  Plato 
seems  to  ask :  "What  man  ?"  The  doctrine  of  ideas 
revealed  an  antagonism  between  flesh  and  spirit, 
and  as  little  as  Plato  sympathised  with  Orphic 
mysticism  he  was  one  with  it  on  this  point.  The 
Orphic  sects  taught  that  the  soul  was  imprisoned 
in  the  body;  the  flesh  was  the  tomb  of  the  soul, 
a  bondage  to  evil  which  could  be  broken  only  at 
death.  Plato's  thinking  sharpened  the  dualism 
between  flesh  and  spirit.  On  the  one  hand  man 
was  a  complex  of  passions  and  appetites,  on  the 
other  hand  of  ideals  and  spiritual  aspirations.  If 
man  was  the  measure  of  aU  things  it  must  be  the 
spiritual  man.  But  this  higher  self  proved  the 
reality  of  a  world  above  the  senses — fair  and 
lovely — made  up  of  ideas,  ideals  and  communion 
with  God.  If  this  higher  selfhood  be  accepted  as 
the  norm  it  not  only  measured  man's  possibilities, 
but  suggested  his  limitations.  The  problem  was 
one  of  emancipation.  How  was  the  spiritual  man 
to  rid  himself  of  the  earthly  handicap  ?  Plato  tells 
us  how  this  might  be  accomplished  in  his  famous 
allegory  of  the  cave. 

First  he  conceives  a  number  of  prisoners  im- 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      91 

mured  in  a  long  and  gradually  sloping  chamber. 
They  are  bound  so  that  they  cannot  move  and 
are  obliged  to  look  at  a  blank  wall  at  the  end 
of  the  cave.  Behind  and  above  them  is  a  fire  burn- 
ing, and  between  them  and  the  fire  is  a  pathway 
flanked  by  a  low  wall.  Along  this  pathway  men 
are  passing,  carrying  a  number  of  vessels.  These 
vessels,  rising  above  the  low  wall  flanking  the 
pathway,  cast  their  shadows  on  the  blank  wall  at 
the  bottom  of  the  chamber.  These  shadow  shapes 
are  all  that  the  prisoners  see.  He  now  supposes 
that  the  prisoners  are  released.  At  first  they  are 
reluctant  to  leave  the  cave.  As  they  are  taken 
into  the  light  they  are  so  confused  that  they  are 
unable  to  distinguish  the  shadows  from  the  ob- 
jects which  cast  them;  but  gradually  they  become 
accustomed  to  distinguish  real  objects;  then  they 
become  aware  of  the  element  that  reveals  them. 
They  recognise  light  itself,  and  finally  by  follow- 
ing it  to  its  source,  discover  the  sun.^ 

According  to  Plato  men  in  their  natural  condi- 
tion are  creatures  of  delusion.  Knowledge  is  of 
shadow  shapes  only,  and  has  no  validity  because 
it  has  no  connection  with  reality.  But  if  men 
display  an  aptitude  for  thinking  they  gi^adually 
leave  the  cave  and  learn  how  to  distinguish  real 

«  "The  Republic,"  Book  VII.  Translated  by  Davics  and 
Vanghan. 


92  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

objects  from  shadow  shapes.  Eventually  they 
become  aware  of  the  element  of  truth  which  re- 
veals reality,  and  finally  by  tracing  truth  to  its 
source  they  find  the  eternal  God.  Thus  the  hu- 
man spirit  emancipates  itself  from  the  prisonhouse 
of  the  flesh.  Every  human  idea  has  its  divine 
counterpart.  To  know  this  is  power,  because  it 
leads  to  God.  Such  knowledge  is  also  virtue,  and 
virtue  means  happiness. 

This  is  very  beautiful  but  is  open  to  criticism. 
If  every  man  was  naturally  endowed  with  a  pas- 
sion for  high  intellectual  endeavour ;  if  he  felt  that 
his  relation  to  God  was  the  first  and  most  import- 
ant business  of  life,  he  might  choose  this  con- 
templative way,  and  attain  to  Platonic  virtue. 
But  suppose  man  lacks  a  natural  capacity  for  re- 
flection, suppose  he  prefers  a  life  of  fleshly  in- 
dulgence, how  are  you  going  to  persuade  him  to 
abandon  the  cave?  Plato  does  not  answer  this 
question  simply  because  he  is  thinking  of  a  cer- 
tain type  of  man;  of  a  man  like  himself  of  phil- 
osophic genius  and  ethical  passion  of  the  high- 
est order.  The  good  man  is  an  intellectual  aris- 
tocrat. If  a  man  is  to  be  saved  he  must  turn  phi- 
losopher and  give  himself  to  rigid  intellectual  dis- 
cipline. But  the  masses  who  prefer  to  live  in  the 
cave,  dealing  ever  with  shadow  shapes,  must  be 
left  to  their  own  devices. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      93 

By  opening  the  way  to  God  only  to  the  man  of 
passionate  ethical  aspiration  Plato  parts  company 
with  the  great  majority;  his  quest  for  safe  conduct 
leads  nowhere.  On  the  contrary,  it  raises  a 
greater  problem:  Where  can  be  found  a  virtue- 
making  power  of  sufficient  practicability  to  realise 
the  Platonic  ideal?  Obviously  it  could  not  be 
found  in  the  Socratic  precept,  "Know  thyself." 
Knowledge  alone  was  not  enough.  There  must 
also  be  desire  and  moral  passion  to  attain  good- 
ness, and  Plato's  gospel  would  have  no  meaning 
to  those  lacking  these  things.  In  this  fashion 
Plato  raised  a  problem  which  the  more  practical 
mind  of  Aristotle  endeavoured  to  solve. 

Aristotle,  a  man  of  universal  interests,  is  never 
more  practical  than  in  his  dealing  with  ethics.  He 
aims  to  bring  philosophy  down  to  the  level  of  the 
ordinary  man  and  make  it  practicable  for  a  work- 
a-day  world.  While  agreeing  with  Plato  in  say- 
ing that  a  virtuous  life  requires  reflection,  he  in- 
sists that  the  concept  of  virtue  should  be  clearly 
defined  and,  in  the  effort  to  give  it  greater  distinct- 
ness, makes  three  important  statements:  first, 
virtue  is  not  an  extreme  position,  but  a  golden 
mean;  secondly,  it  is  not  confined  to  specific  ac- 
tions, but  is  a  habit  of  mind  which  must  be 
formed  by  education  and  social   discipline,  and 


94  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

thirdly,  the  power  to  form  virtuous  habits  comes 
from  an  ideal  political  environment. 

These  points  deserve  further  consideration. 
Virtue  is  conceived  as  a  golden  mean  between  ex- 
tremes. Excess  and  deficiency  are  characteristics 
of  vice,  and  the  mean  state  a  characteristic  of  vir- 
tue. For  instance,  courage  is  the  mean  between 
the  excess  of  foolhardiness  and  the  deficiency  of 
cowardice;  temperance  the  mean  between  licen- 
tiousness and  insensibility;  or  modesty  between 
shamelessness  and  bashfulness.  Tliis  of  course  is 
entirely  in  harmony  with  the  Greek  ideal  of  pro- 
portion.^ 

Ai^istotle  makes  an  important  distinction  be- 
tween intellectual  and  moral  virtues.  Intellectual 
virtues  belong  to  the  rational  part  of  the  soul, 
such,  for  example,  as  wisdom  and  prudence.  The 
moral  virtues  belong  to  the  in-ational  part 
of  the  soul.  This  he  describes  as  the  concupiscent 
part  of  human  nature,  which,  while  not  possessing 
reason,  is  capable  of  obedience  to  reason.  Intel- 
lectual virtue  is  fostered  by  teaching  and  reflec- 
tion, but  moral  virtue  is  the  product  of  habit. 
Moral  virtue  is  the  fruit  of  a  proper  discipline 
of  the  irrational  or  concupiscent  part  of  the  soul. 
This  calls  for  strenuous  endeavour,  since  man  is 

^  "The  Nicomachean  Ethics,"  pp.  47-48.  Weldon's  trans- 
lation. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      95 

subject  to  both  reason  and  impulse  and  they  are 
frequently  in  conflict.  Moral  virtue  is  the  issue 
of  this  struggle,  it  is  the  direct  result  of  habits 
formed  in  obedience  to  right  reason.^ 

The  power  to  form  habits  of  moral  virtue  is 
derived  chiefly  from  an  ideal  j)olitical  environment. 
Ethics  is  a  branch  of  political  science,  and  the  good 
life  can  be  realised  only  under  social  discipline. 
It  is  the  function  of  the  state  to  make  men  good. 
By  means  of  its  authority  it  must  discipline  the 
irrational  part  of  the  soul  in  conformity  to  right 
reason.^ 

These  points  are  open  to  criticism.  From  an 
ideal  point  of  view  the  notion  of  a  golden  mean  is 
above  reproach,  but  it  does  not  work  in  practice. 
The  conception  of  the  balanced  life  is  an  unstable 
one;  it  gives  too  much  scope  to  prudence,  and  in 
the  last  analysis  bases  morality  on  expediency. 
"Be  not  righteous  over  much,  neither  be  thou  over 
much  wicked,"  has  been  the  favourite  creed  of 
culture;  in  fact  the  Epicurean  code  of  morals  was 
largely  shaped  by  this  notion  of  the  mean. 

Aristotle's  distinction  between  the  rational  and 
irrational  parts  of  the  soul  is  a  very  important 
one.  He  clearly  sees  what  his  predecessors  had 
but  dimly  discerned — that  human  nature  is  not  en- 

«  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  32-34. 
^  Op.  Cit,  pp.  3^5-24>6. 


96  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

tirely  subject  to  right  reason.  The  disposition  to 
act  contrary  to  reason,  to  obey  irrational  impulses 
and  follow  perverse  inclinations,  must  be  reckoned 
with.  This  thing  of  being  good  is  a  strenuous 
business.  "The  mind  reigns,  but  does  not  govern," 
says  Woodrow  Wilson.  "We  are  governed  by  a 
tumultuous  house  of  commons  made  up  of  the  pas- 
sions, and  the  ruling  passion  is  prime  minister 
and  coerces  the  sovereign."  Knowledge  is  not 
sufficient ;  man  needs  power  to  perform  that  which 
is  right.  He  must  be  assisted  in  attaining  a  good 
life,  and  Aristotle  is  inclined  to  look  for  this  in 
the  direction  of  an  ideal  political  environment. 
Doubtless  a  philosophic  genius  would  voluntarily 
choose  the  path  of  virtue,  but  the  plain  man  must 
be  assisted  on  the  way.  This  was  the  function 
of  the  state.  Before  the  individual  could  be  im- 
proved man  must  devise  an  ideal  political  institu- 
tion, through  which  alone  social  discipline  could  be 
realised.  Hence  Aristotle  places  the  virtue-mak- 
ing power  in  the  function  of  the  state.  Dealing 
with  this  difficult  question  he  says;  "If  theories 
were  sufficient  of  themselves  to  make  men  good, 
they  would  deserve  to  receive  any  number  of 
handsome  rewards,  and  it  would  have  been  our 
duty  to  provide  them.  But  it  appears  in  fact, 
that,  although  they  are  strong  enough  to  en- 
courage and  stimulate  youths  who  are  already 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      97 

liberally  minded:  although  they  are  capable  of 
bringing  a  soul  which  is  generous  and  enamoured 
of  nobleness  under  the  spell  of  virtue,  they  are 
impotent  to  inspire  the  mass  of  men  to  chivalrous 
action;  for  it  is  not  the  nature  of  such  men  to 
obey  honour,  but  terror,  nor  to  abstain  from  evil 
for  fear  of  disgrace,  but  for' fear  of  punisliment. 
For  as  their  life  is  one  of  emotion,  they  pursue 
their  proper  pleasures  and  the  means  of  gaining 
these  pleasures,  and  eschew  the  pains  which  are 
opposite  to  them.  But  of  what  is  noble  and  truly 
pleasant  they  have  not  so  much  as  a  conception, 
because  they  have  never  tasted  it.  Where  is  the 
theory  or  argument  which  can  reform  such  people 
as  these?"  ^'^ 

Aristotle's  diagnosis  is  admirable.  In  recognis- 
ing the  difficulty  of  subduing  the  concupiscent  part 
of  the  soul  he  was  far  in  advance  of  his  predeces- 
sors, but  his  view  of  that  disciphne  is  distinctly 
disappointing.  The  virtue-making  power,  which, 
according  to  Socrates,  belonged  to  all  men,  and 
according  to  Plato,  to  a  certain  type  of  man,  is 
by  Aristotle  lodged  with  the  state.  Ethical  sanc- 
tions are  derived  from  political  relations. 

The  weakness  of  the  position  is  clear,  since  it 
provides  nothing  for  the  proper  discipline  of  a  law- 
less will  save  an  external  relation  to  a  political  or- 

'«  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  343-344. 


98  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ganisation.  But  social  discipline  has  never  been 
sufficient.  Nothing  short  of  a  radical  change  of 
human  nature  from  within  can  accomplish  this. 
And  the  want  of  power  in  a  political  institution  to 
provide  an  effective  control  of  individual  perver- 
sity practically  reduces  Aristotle's  scheme  to  the 
Platonic  level.  It  is  for  the  few  rather  than  the 
many.  Assuming  that  it  were  possible  in  a  com- 
pact city-state  to  provide  a  social  discipline  ade- 
quate to  meet  the  situation,  still  the  attainment 
of  virtue  in  the  citizen  would  be  conditioned  by 
the  permanence  of  that  form  of  government.  The 
ethical  sanction  would  be  no  stronger  than  the 
state  itself.  And  if  anything  should  happen  to 
disturb  political  security  it  would  immediately  in- 
validate the  ethical  sanction.  And  if  this  should 
occur,  the  question  of  safe  conduct  would  become 
acute  again. 

And  this  took  place  in  Aristotle's  lifetime.  All 
ethical  theories  up  to  and  including  Aristotle's 
were  conceived  within  the  limits  of  the  Greek  city- 
state.  But  certain  forces  were  now  at  work  which 
were  calculated  to  disturb  and  eventually  to  de- 
stroy that  form  of  government. 

One  of  these  forces  was  a  constantly  growing 
sense  of  individual  importance.  Man  was  out- 
growing his  traditions.  The  rationalistic  move- 
ment, which  in  the  fifth  century  had  begun  to 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS      99 

question  and  modify  ancient  religious  and  political 
traditions,  was  peculiarly  active  in  this  direction 
in  the  fourth  century.  The  notion  of  individual 
significance  was  being  formulated,  and  this  dis- 
turbed the  social  life  of  the  age.  Men  were  less 
interested  in  ultimate  theories  and  wanted  a  way 
of  life.  The  quest  for  safe  conduct  was  becoming 
urgent  again  because  the  needs  of  the  individual 
were  felt  to  be  paramount. 

But  another  momentous  change  was  impending. 
On  the  one  hand  man's  spirit  was  going  out  to 
meet  the  world;  on  the  other  hand  the  world  was 
coming  to  meet  him.  The  spirit  of  unrest  within 
the  city-state  was  met  from  without  by  the  rapid 
rise  of  the  Macedonian  power  and  the  conquest  of 
the  world  by  Alexander  the  Great.  The  barrier 
between  East  and  West  was  broken  down  and  the 
currents  of  life  and  opinion  freely  mingled.  The 
ancient  provincialism  was  giving  way  to  a  new 
sense  of  cosmopolitanism  and  a  feeling  of  world- 
wide interests  cut  up  and  modified  the  old  racial 
exclusiveness. 

Man  was  tormented  by  a  new  fear  and  a  new 
desire.*^  He  feared  the  consequences  of  this 
momentous  political  upheaval.  Could  he  retain 
his  political  freedom  under  the  new  conditions? 
Did  not  these  changes  expose  the  native  Greek, 

"  Bevan:     "Stoics  and  Skeptics/'  pp.  ^i-SS. 


100  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ever  the  passionate  lover  of  liberty,  to  slavery  and 
degradation?  Did  not  the  collapse  of  the  city- 
state  seriously  impair  if  it  did  not  utterly  destroy 
the  authority  of  ancient  religious  traditions  ?  Man 
was  tormented  by  new  and  disturbing  ideas  about 
everything.  He  was  intensely  conscious  of  loneli- 
ness. In  this  enlarging  world  he  was  without 
shelter  for  body  or  soul.  He  was  like  a  youth, 
bom  and  bred  in  a  provincial  community,  who 
suddenly  finds  himself  alone  and  friendless  in  the 
streets  of  a  great  city.  Amid  new  forces,  strange 
faces  and  novel  experiences  he  feels  the  remoteness 
and  insignificance  of  his  cherished  traditions,  the 
utter  inaptitude  of  his  point  of  view  on  every- 
thing. Such  a  man  will  desire  a  way  of  life  above 
everything.  So  felt  the  people  of  the  ancient 
world,  particularly  the  conservative  citizens  of  the 
old  city-state  when  Alexander  broke  down  the  bar- 
riers between  East  and  West  and  gave  them  a 
chance  to  see  things  from  a  cosmopolitan  point 
of  view.  Old  religions,  philosophies  and  morali- 
ties; old  notions  of  political  rights  and  privileges 
were  felt  to  be  out  of  date.  The  time  called  for 
a  new  intellectual  outlook.  It  wanted  new  teach- 
ers and  new  schools  of  thought  to  meet  the  new 
needs. 

But  if  these  momentous  changes  made  man  fear- 
ful, from  another  point  of  view  they  inspired  him 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS     101 

with  a  new  desire.  He  wanted  to  take  his  place 
in  the  new  order  of  things.  He  began  to  have 
visions  of  a  wider  human  relationship  and  gradu- 
ally became  aware  of  the  possibility  of  a  world 
brotherhood.  A  fresh  sense  of  the  solidarity  of 
humanity  was  altering  the  ancient  racial  exclusive- 
ness.  If  the  passing  of  the  old  made  him  lonely, 
the  coming  of  the  new  order  made  him  keenly 
desire  a  share  in  its  experience. 

The  most  pressing  problem  was  how  to  meet 
the  new  conditions.  Obviously  the  old  theories 
would  not  suit  the  new  age.  They  were  too  ab- 
stract and  elusive  to  interest  the  plain  man.  He 
desired  something  that  had  to  do  with  the  busi- 
ness of  living.  It  was  a  time  when  the  ordinary 
man  had  to  think  about  himself,  and  especially 
when  everybody  was  looking  for  a  way  of  life 
and  a  scheme  of  thought  adjusted  to  the  new  con- 
ditions. 

It  was  to  provide  a  way  of  life  that  the  philoso- 
phies of  Stoicism  and  Epicureanism  were  devised. 
These  philosophies  represent  the  ethical  quest  for 
safe  conduct  in  the  Grseco-Roman  world.  How 
these  systems  attained  their  influence  over  the 
ages  immediately  following  Alexander's  conquests 
is  an  important  inquiry  if  we  are  to  understand  the 
temper  of  the  times  to  which  the  gospel  w^as 
preached. 


lOa  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  primary  need  of  the  fourth  century  was 
for  individual  guidance.  This  need  is  responsible 
for  two  features  of  the  new  philosophies.  On  the 
one  hand  they  were  quests  for  the  chief  good  by 
means  of  ethical  discipline;  on  the  other  hand 
they  were  intensely  dogmatic. 

The  morality  of  the  Greeks  up  to  the  time  of 
Socrates  was  instinctive  rather  than  reflective. 
Even  with  Socrates,  Plato  and  Aristotle  ethics 
was  subordinated  to  political  science.  The  ethical 
sanction  was  bound  up  with  the  fortunes  of  the 
city-state.  But  the  city-state  was  doomed.  Man 
was  rapidly  outgrowing  its  provincial  limitations, 
besides,  Alexander's  successes  proved  that  form  of 
government  inadequate.  This  immediately  sepa- 
rated the  science  of  ethics  from  politics  and  made 
it  a  distinct  object  of  inquiry.  What  the  individual 
required  was  to  be  assured  of  a  way  of  life  which 
could  afford  tranquillity  apart  from  favourable 
circumstances  and  unconditioned  by  political  re- 
lationships. Under  the  old  economy  the  chief 
good  was  always  conceived  as  a  composite  thing, 
composed  of  many  elements  besides  moral  sanity. 
Youth,  personal  beauty,  riches,  intellectual  power 
and  political  security  under  the  compact  form  of 
a  city-state  were  not  only  desirable  concomitants 
but  the  essentials  of  happiness.  But  the  changes 
of  the  fourth  century  had  completely  destroyed 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS    103 

this  conception.  It  was  impossible  under  the  new 
conditions  to  realise  a  composite  ideal  of  the  chief 
good.  Man  was  stripped  bare  of  all  outward 
goods ;  he  lost  contact  with  inherited  religious  sup- 
ports ;  he  was  tormented  with  new  desires  and  new 
needs,  and  was  forced  to  seek  spiritual  compensa- 
tions apart  from  external  conditions.  How  could 
he  meet  such  a  world  as  this?  How  could  he 
face  its  adversities  and  cope  with  its  uncertainties  ? 
How  could  he  become  a  contented  citizen  of  this 
enlarging  commonwealth  of  humanity  and  still 
retain  a  tranquil  mind?  The  new  philosophies  en- 
deavoured to  meet  such  needs  as  these. 

But  the  age  was  indifferent  to  argument  and 
weary  of  speculations  dealing  with  ultimate  ques- 
tions. These  seemed  beside  the  mark.  The  prob- 
lems of  life  were  urgent,  and  men  wanted  quick 
answers.  They  wanted  something  that  would 
work,  and  work  promptly.  Some  were  inclined 
towards  universal  scepticism.  It  is  interesting  to 
remember  that  Pyrrho  of  Elis,  the  founder  of  the 
Sceptical  school,  followed  Alexander  to  India  and 
returned  more  than  ever  convinced  of  the  futility 
of  knowledge.  He  believed  that  nothing  could  be 
known  for  certain  about  anything.  Vague  prob- 
ability was  the  only  guide  of  life.  This  school  per- 
sisted in  the  Gra^co-Roman  world  and  had  in 
Carneades  a  very  able  advocate,  but  we  are  not 


104  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

concerned  with  it  here.  The  point  of  importance 
to  remember  is  that  the  age  was  indifferent  to 
sustained  arguments  and  elaborate  systems,  and 
demanded  dogmas.  It  was  ready  to  beheve  in 
eoo-cathedra  deliverances  of  any  kind,  provided 
they  had  to  do  with  the  problem  of  moral  direction. 
It  is  an  interesting  thing,  this  recurrent  demand 
for  dogma  in  the  history  of  human  opinion.  After 
ages  of  rationalism  people  will  turn  from  argu- 
ment and  system  and  demand  the  dogmatist.  It 
is  a  time  when  men  will  believe  a  conception  not 
because  they  think  it  is  true,  but  because  it  is 
powerfully  and  dogmatically  proclaimed.  It  was 
the  demand  for  dogma,  this  disposition  to  believe 
in  a  powerful  preaching  that  gave  to  the  philoso- 
phies of  the  fourth  century  something  of  the 
quality  of  Hebrew  prophecy.  It  was  the  desire 
to  believe  in  dogmas  that  made  the  personality  of 
the  philosopher  a  more  important  element  than  his 
teaching.  The  devotion  of  the  followers  to  Epi- 
curus savoured  of  religious  veneration.  In  fact, 
it  was  attachment  to  his  memory  that  protected  his 
system  from  the  syncretic  tendencies  of  the  suc- 
ceeding centuries.  Zeno,  the  founder  of  the  Stoic 
school,  had  a  personal  influence  that  went  far  be- 
yond the  influence  of  his  teaching.  All  this  in- 
dicates that  the  age  was  rapidly  approaching  a 
time  when  it  would  readily  yield  to  personal  lead- 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS    105 

ership,  when  it  was  going  to  realise  so  acutely  the 
need  for  a  way  of  life  that  it  would  follow  any 
man  who  could  speak  with  authority  on  the  main 
question. 

We  must  study  these  systems  from  this  point  of 
view.  We  cannot  discuss  them  in  detail;  indeed, 
it  is  not  desirable  that  we  should.  Wliat  is  needed 
is  to  understand  their  spirit  and  main  intention. 
They  were  intensely  sincere  efforts  to  meet  a  press- 
ing need  of  the  times.  They  were  not  attempts  at 
final  systems  of  thought,  but  inspired  by  the  prac- 
tical necessities  of  a  series  of  profound  changes 
growing  out  of  Alexander's  conquests. 

Stoicism  centres  in  the  will.  Epicureanism  in 
the  desires.  Zeno's  main  principle  was  that  man 
has  the  power  to  will  the  good,  and  gain  absolute 
independence  of  external  conditions  of  life.  The 
right  use  of  the  will  would  make  man  free  in  a 
world  of  change.  Zeno  held,  and  rightly  I  think, 
that  many  of  life's  evils  come  from  an  over-elabora- 
tion of  desire.  If  you  reduce  the  number  of  your 
desires,  you  reduce  your  needs  to  a  minimum,  and 
you  at  once  limit  the  possibility  of  worry.  Desire 
must  be  brought  under  the  discipline  of  the  will. 
Man  overcomes  the  world  by  a  noble  defiance,  by 
the  adjustment  of  his  demands  upon  it  to  the  re- 
quirements of  a  disciplined  personality.  But  what 
assurance  of  success  has  he?     Supposing  his  in- 


106  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

tention  to  be  right,  can  he  depend  on  the  uni- 
verse ?  Will  it  help  or  hinder  him  ?  Is  the  universe 
friendly  or  otherwise  ?  Zeno  answers  that  the  uni- 
verse is  friendly  because  it  is  rational.  All  that 
is  necessary  to  realise  the  chief  good  is  to  adjust 
decisions  to  right  reason;  hence  the  problem  is 
simply  one  of  adjustment.  But  by  what  rule? 
Zeno  replies  "by  following  nature."  To  "follow 
nature"  means  to  obey  her  essential  meaning.  But 
what  is  the  essential  meaning  of  nature?  Zeno 
goes  back  to  the  speculations  of  Heraclitus.  Her- 
aclitus  taught  that  the  universe  was  made  of  fire. 
It  was  instinct  with  reason  and  spirit.  The  uni- 
verse in  short  was  alive,  and  this  life  had  a  voice 
which  he  called  the  '''Logos''  or  word.  The  word 
was  intelligible  to  any  one  who  was  willing  to  listen 
to  it.  It  told  man  that  God  and  humanity  were 
alike  essentially  rational  beings,  and  this  notion 
of  imphcit  rationality  was  taken  over  by  the  Stoics, 
and  when  they  speak  of  following  nature  they 
mean  to  obey  the  voice  of  reason,  which  is  the 
spirit  and  life  of  all  things.  This  in  many  respects 
resembles  Bergson's  ''elan  vital"  or  push  of  life. 
It  is  open  to  all  who  have  the  sense  to  understand 
it.  "Will  to  be  good,"  Zeno  seems  to  say,  "and 
you  may  defy  circumstances."  By  bringing  the 
will  under  the  control  of  reason  man  could  never 
go  wrong  simply  because  the  universe  is  friendly, 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS    107 

in  short  instinct  with  Providence,  with  God.  There 
is  a  Semitic  strain  in  Stoicism  which  is  expressed 
in  this  characteristic  doctrine.  Zeno  himself  was  a 
native  of  Citium  in  Cyprus,  and  many  of  the  later 
Stoics  were  Semites. 

The  notion  of  an  immanent  and  guiding  Spirit 
in  the  universe  is  suggested  in  the  beautiful  hymn 
of  Cleanthes,  the  immediate  follower  of  Zeno: 

*'0  king  of  kings 
Through  ceaseless  ages,  God,  whose  purpose  brings 
To  birth,  whatever  on  land  or  in  the  sea 
Is  wrought,  or  in  high  heaven's  immensity; 
Save  what  the  sinner  works  infatuate."  ^^ 

This  quotation  suggests  Stoicism's  noblest  con- 
tribution and  characteristic  weakness.  By  follow- 
ing nature  the  Stoic  believed  he  was  following 
God.  Man  w^as  akin  to  the  eternal,  and  God  was 
always  willing  to  aid  the  striving  spirit.  It  was  a 
strenuous  effort  to  adjust  human  nature  to  the 
requirements  of  God,  and  at  the  same  time  give 
man  a  position  of  undisturbed  tranquillity  in  the 
midst  of  a  changing  world.  Undoubtedly  it  proved 
a  powerful  agent  in  stabilising  minds  naturally 
disposed  to  goodness,  but  its  characteristic  con- 
fession is  found  in  the  statement  that  the  Sovereign 
Will  has  no  meaning  for  the  "sinner  infatuate." 
This,  however,  did  not  disturb  the  Stoic,  because 
he  was  not  interested  in  the  "sinner  infatuate." 

^^  Adam's  translation:  See  Hicks'  "Stoic  and  Epicurean," 
pp.  14-16. 


108  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

He  accepts  Aristotle's  notion  of  the  irrational  part 
of  the  soul  and  endeavours  to  destroy  this  side  of 
human  nature  by  a  rigid  discipline  of  the  desires; 
but  the  older  Stoics  thought  of  goodness  and 
badness  in  such  an  absolute  sense  that  they  left  no 
possible  encouragement  for  the  ordinary  man.  A 
man  was  either  good  or  bad,  and  that  was  the  end 
of  it.  Either  he  followed  nature  wholly,  or  not  at 
all.  There  was  no  middle  ground.  They  admitted 
that  the  ideal  wise  man  was  rare  in  our  work-a- 
day  world,  but  they  would  not  alter  their  view. 
Of  course,  this  made  for  hardness,  austerity  and 
grimness,  but  it  made  men  strong  enough  to  face 
the  world  with  a  valiant  spirit. 

There  was  another  element  in  Stoicism  which 
made  for  hardness ;  I  refer  to  its  doctrine  of  inten- 
tion without  desire.^ ^  The  Stoic  believed  that  de- 
sire in  great  measure  determines  happiness.  Re- 
duction of  the  number  and  intensity  of  desires 
limits  the  possibility  of  unhappiness.  But  his 
special  aim  was  not  to  make  man  happy  but  to 
make  him  good,  and  goodness  was  an  affair  of  the 
will  rather  than  of  desire.  Still  he  did  not  believe 
in  cloistered  goodness.  The  Stoic  must  take  part 
in  the  world's  work  because  he  belonged  to  a 
universal  brotherhood.  But  he  must  aim  to  serve 
others  without  allowing  his  feehngs  to  become  in- 

^^Bevan:     Op.  Cit.,  pp.  58-67. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS    109 

volved.  He  must  serve  his  neighbour,  but  he  must 
not  love  him,  neither  must  he  worry  if  his  service 
is  a  failure.  His  purpose  was  to  do  good  to  others 
but  he  would  indulge  in  no  useless  regrets.  Com- 
passion or  pity  were  vices  because  they  operated 
against  the  interests  of  peace.  "In  the  service 
of  his  fellow  man  he  must  be  prepared  to  sacrifice 
his  health,  to  sacrifice  his  possessions,  to  sacrifice 
his  life;  but  there  is  one  thing  he  must  never 
sacrifice — his  own  eternal  calm."  ^* 

The  Stoic  was  trying  to  end  life  in  himself.  He 
is  the  Pharisee  of  the  heathen  world,  a  preacher  of 
an  impossible  creed  of  strenuous  endeavour;  a 
seeker  always  after  virtue :  very  much  of  a  Puritan, 
sometimes  a  prig,  always  a  dogmatist,  and  always 
tremendously  interested  in  preserving  at  any  cost 
his  peace  of  mind.  But  he  was  something  more 
and  greater  than  this.  He  was  a  citizen  of  the 
world  because  he  believed  in  the  universality  of 
reason.  He  cheerfully  put  behind  him  the  old 
social  and  pohtical  conceptions;  he  broke  away 
from  ancient  speculations  and  faced  the  new  age 
with  a  noble  defiance  of  circumstance,  simply  be- 
cause he  believed  that  everything  meant  intensely 
and  meant  good — for  him.  We  can  hardly  over- 
estimate the  power  of  Zeno's  mind  battering  syl- 
logisms and  dogmatic  preachments  in  stabilising 

"Bevan:     Op.,  Cit.,  p.  67. 


110  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

an  age  adrift  on  a  sea  of  cosmopolitanism.  Men 
were  willing  to  seize  anything  substantial  enough 
to  carry  them  through  the  great  flood  to  peace  and 
safety.  This  is  enough  to  account  for  the  influ- 
ence of  Stoicism  on  the  life  and  opinions  of  later 
centuries. 

The  foil  of  Stoicism  was  Epicureanism.  The 
Stoic  believed  in  overcoming  the  world  by  de- 
fiance; the  Epicurean  by  a  judicious  compromise 
and  the  avoidance  of  extremes.  One  was  founded 
on  predominance  of  will,  the  other  on  the  proper 
co-ordination  and  development  of  desire.  Stoicism 
had  in  it  a  Semitic  strain  of  exclusive  devotion 
to  an  ideal;  Epicureanism  expressed  the  Greek 
sense  of  proportion;  the  aim  of  the  one  was  the 
safe  life,  of  the  other,  the  complete  life. 

Epicurus  believed  that  most  of  life's  troubles 
were  due  to  excess  and  one-sidedness.  He  traced 
much  of  life's  unrest  to  religious  observances  and 
endeavoured  by  means  of  the  physical  specula- 
tions of  Democritus  to  show  that,  while  there  were 
gods,  they  took  no  interest  in  the  affairs  of  men. 
He  elaborated  an  atomic  theory  of  the  universe, 
holding  that  only  two  things  exist :  atoms  and  the 
void.  All  things  being  atomic  and  subject  to 
change,  the  fear  of  gods  and  the  fear  of  death 
are  delusions.  Best  banish  such  fears  and  con- 
centrate attention  on  this  life.     Since  it  is  all  we 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  GREEKS     111 

have,  we  ought  to  make  the  best  of  it.  He  aimed, 
you  see,  to  abandon  all  extreme  positions  and  all 
impossible  quests,  and  to  adapt  life  to  a  wise  com- 
promise with  daily  responsibilities.  Happiness 
was  to  be  realised  in  a  proper  co-ordination  of  de- 
sires, in  the  enjoyment  of  the  amenities  of  human 
intercourse,  in.  the  cultivation  of  friendships  and 
the  pleasures  of  social  hfe. 

In  brief  the  ideal  of  the  Stoic  was  perfection 
through  the  predominance  of  will  over  desire,  while 
the  ideal  of  the  Epicurean  was  comfortableness 
in  the  cultivation  and  control  of  desire. 

The  chief  good  according  to  Epicurus  was  the 
pursuit  of  pleasure ;  but  by  pleasure  he  meant  only 
a  condition  of  existence  free  from  pain  or  want. 
In  the  avoidance  of  excess  and  indulgence,  in  the 
combination  of  plain  living  and  high  thinking,  he 
was  a  conspicuous  example  of  his  teaching.  But 
the  weakness  of  the  system  lies  in  its  loose  defini- 
tion of  pleasure  as  the  chief  good  and  in  giving  too 
large  an  influence  to  worldly  prudence.  By  leav- 
ing such  matters  to  individual  preference  it  is  easy 
to  understand  why  the  system  broke  up  into  a 
series  of  lawless  tendencies.  We  must  not  forget, 
however,  that  Epicureanism  had  an  immense  sig- 
nificance for  one  of  the  noblest  minds  of  the  last 
century  of  the  Roman  republic,  and  in  the  ''De 
Rerum  Natura'  it  attained  a  dignity  and  moral 


m  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

strength  which  gave  it  wide  influence  in  that  age. 
These  practical  methods  of  dealing  with  the 
issues  of  life  represent  the  ethical  quest  for  safe 
conduct,  which  manifests  itself  among  the  Romans 
in  the  scepticism  of  Lucretius,  the  opportunism 
of  Cicero,  the  humanism  of  Virgil,  and  the  resig- 
nation of  Seneca.  Stoicism  and  Epicureanism 
were  final  efforts  to  obtain  peace  through  philoso- 
phy. They  had  an  important  bearing  on  the  re- 
ligious situation  in  the  Grgeco-Roman  world  when 
Christianity  began  its  westward  movement. 


LECTURE  IV 

THE  ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS 


LECTURE  IV 

THE  ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS 

Alexander's  conquests  had,  as  we  have  seen,  an 
unj)ortant  influence  on  the  social  and  pohtical  life 
of  fourth  century  Greece.  His  successes  further 
enlarged  the  conception  of  individual  significance 
and,  by  destroying  the  old  city-state,  made  man 
a  citizen  of  the  world.  By  undermining  ancient 
traditions  concerning  politics  and  religion  these 
momentous  changes  brought  the  question  of  safe 
conduct  to  the  front  as  the  paramount  need  of  the 
times.  The  age  was  impatient  with  arguments 
and  too  much  in  a  hurry  to  concern  itself  ^\ath 
speculative  systems.  It  desired  something  posi- 
tive, concrete  and  simple,  and  was  willing  to  be- 
lieve in  dogma  and  listen  to  prophecy.  It  was  an 
era  of  popular  preaching  and  ethical  propaganda. 
Under  these  circumstances  Epicureanism  and  Sto- 
icism arose.  And  it  was  due  to  the  fact  tliat  the 
moral  situation  of  the  Roman  world  immediately 
preceding  the  Christian  era  resembled  in  many 
important    particulars    that    of    fourth    century 

Greece,  that  these  philosophies  had  such  a  wide  in- 
ns 


116  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

fluence  on  the  period.  In  this  lecture  we  shall  con- 
sider the  ethical  quest  among  the  Romans  as  re- 
flected in  the  opinions  of  four  great  men.  We 
shall  study  it  in  the  scepticism  of  Lucretius,  the 
opportunism  of  Cicero,  the  humanism  of  Virgil 
and  the  resignation  of  Seneca.  These  men  ear- 
nestly endeavoured  to  adjust  the  human  spirit  to 
the  requirements  of  the  moral  nature,  but  if  we  are 
to  understand  why  they  believed  this  to  be  such  an 
important  problem  we  must  seek  the  reason  in  the 
history  of  those  times. 

The  last  century  of  the  Roman  Republic  has 
fittingly  been  called  "the  terrible  century."  It 
stands  almost  alone  among  the  ensanguined  pages 
of  history.  "That  period  in  Italy,"  says  Prof. 
Conway,  "had  seen  twelve  separate  civil  wars,  six 
of  which  had  involved  many  of  the  provinces;  a 
long  series  of  political  murders,  beginning  with  the 
Gracchi,  and  ending  with  Ceesar  and  Cicero;  five 
deliberate  legalised  massacres,  from  the  drum  head 
court  martial  which  sentenced  to  death  3000  sup- 
posed followers  of  Gains  Gracchus,  to  the  second 
proscription  dictated  by  Marc  Antony.  JMen  still 
spoke  with  a  shudder  of  the  butchery  of  7000 
Samnite  prisoners  in  the  hearing  of  the  assembled 
senate,  and  the  boy  Virgil  would  meet  many  men 
who  had  seen  the  last  act  of  the  struggle  with 
Spartacus  and  his  army  of  escaped  gladiators — 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     117 

6000  prisoners  nailed  on  crosses  along  the  whole 
length  of  the  busiest  road  in  Italy,  from  Rome  to 
Capua." ' 

The  causes  of  these  grave  pohtical  disorders 
were  various,  but  they  may  be  reduced  to  one:  to 
the  fell  disease  which  the  Greeks  called  ^'stasis/' 
that  attacks  political  organisms  at  certain  pe- 
riods of  their  history.  Stasis,  as  Prof.  Fowler  de- 
fines it,  is  "to  take  up  a  distinctive  position  in  the 
state,  with  malicious  intent  towards  another 
party."  ^  This  is  illustrated  by  the  oligarchic  oath 
quoted  by  Aristotle:  "I  will  hate  the  Demos,  and 
do  it  all  the  harm  in  my  power."  Of  course,  such 
an  attitude  was  fatal  to  patriotism,  for  it  developed 
into  an  exaggerated  form  of  partisanship,  or  what 
socialists  call  "class  consciousness."  Stasis  usually 
began  with  friction  between  the  few  and  the  many 
and  was  always  intensified  by  war;  for  war  in- 
creased the  burden  of  taxation,  engendered  ani- 
mosity between  rivals  and  developed  selfish  am- 
bitions. 

This  malignant  disease  of  stasis,  which  destroyed 
the  Greek  city-state,  was  epidemic  in  the  last  cen- 
tury of  the  Roman  Republic.  It  is  necessary  to 
consider  the  development  of  a  tendency  hitherto 
foreign  to  the  Roman  temperament. 

^  Virgil's  "Messianic  Eclogue/'  pp.  33-34. 

^  "The  City-State  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans/'  p.  254. 


118  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  misfortunes  of  a  nation  often  rise  from  its 
conspicuous  successes.  The  final  victory  of  Rome 
over  Carthage  was  from  many  points  of  view  a 
vast  misfortune.  By  that  victory  she  won  her 
peace,  but  she  also  discovered  her  fatal  power  for 
conquest.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the  end  of 
Roman  simplicity.  The  old  Romans  were  farm- 
ers. If  they  went  to  war,  as  they  often  did,  it  was 
in  defence  of  their  homes,  but  with  the  conquest 
of  Carthage  Rome  became  a  nation  of  aggressors. 
Victory  over  a  foreign  foe  developed  the  passion 
for  world  dominion.  As  conquests  followed  with 
relentless  precision,  restlessness  attacked  the  body 
politic,  and  the  country  was  soon  overrun  with 
foreign  soldiers,  without  a  shred  of  patriotism  and 
utterly  indifferent  to  the  control  of  the  civil  power. 
Factions  developed  around  great  leaders,  political 
jealousies  ripened  into  fratricidal  strife  and  civil 
war,  social  disorder  and  a  riot  of  irresponsible  pas- 
sion destroyed  the  peace  of  the  state. 

Stasis  set  in  with  the  agrarian  disputes  of  the 
Gracchi,  and  became  epidemic  in  the  next  cen- 
tury. All  the  evils  which  Thucydides  predicted 
would  fall  on  the  Greek  city-state  had  fallen  on 
Rome.  Internal  strife  was  the  price  she  paid  for 
world  power. 

In  addition  to  this,  Rome  was  exposed  to  what 
Cumont   calls   "the   peaceful   infiltration   of   the 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     119 

Orient  into  the  Occident."  We  are  just  beginning 
to  realise  the  enormous  influence  of  the  Orient  on 
the  early  Roman  empire.  The  distinctive  achieve- 
ment of  the  Romans  has  been  their  conception  of 
law.  Almost  everything  else  in  art,  science  and 
religion  came  to  them  from  the  Orient.  Even  her 
form  of  government  was  eventually  orientalised 
and  most  of  the  evils  which  resulted  in  her  decline 
and  fall  came  from  her  contact  with  foreign  peo- 
ples.^ 

In  the  last  century  of  the  republic  the  passion 
for  wealth,  luxury  and  extravagance;  the  adop- 
tion of  foreign  fashions,  manners  and  customs 
and  the  pernicious  influence  of  foreign  supersti- 
tions destroyed  her  old  simplicity  so  that  it 
could  no  longer  be  said  that  "the  Roman  Common- 
wealth stood  on  ancient  character  and  on  men."  ^ 
It  was  an  age  of  profound  disillusion,  when  ancient 
traditions  were  questioned,  and  when  men  of 
thoughtful  mind  looked  to  the  future  with  fore- 
boding. Such  an  age  as  this  could  not  but  make  a 
deep  impression  on  sensitive  and  earnest  natures, 
and  its  melancholy  is  reflected  in  its  great  litera- 
ture. 

But  eras  of  political  disenchantment  often  occa- 


^Cumont:      "Oriental    Religions    in    Roman    Paganism," 
Chapter  I,  passim. 

*  Ennius. 


1^0  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

sion  religious  revivals.  Prolonged  unrest  begets 
a  passion  for  peace,  and  men  begin  to  desire  safe 
conduct  and  moral  direction.  They  are  inclined  to 
look  for  compensation  for  material  losses  to  some 
form  of  intellectual  or  spiritual  experience. 

The  political  disorders  of  the  last  century  of  the 
republic  made  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  very 
acute.  The  old  religion  was  in  a  manner  of  speak- 
ing dead.  It  was  influential  in  rural  districts, 
but  had  httle  vital  significance  for  the  thoughtful 
cosmopolite.  Rome  was  filling  up  with  new  cults, 
coming  for  the  most  part  from  the  East.  Cybele 
and  Isis  were  there  with  their  splendid  promises 
and  ornate  ritual  performances ;  other  conceptions 
were  current,  such  as  astrology,  Syrian  nature 
cults,  and  foreign  fashions  in  divination.  Judaism 
was  not  without  influence,  and  many  gentile  minds 
were  in  sympathy  with  its  ethical  monotheism. 

But  none  of  these  cults  satisfied  the  cultivated 
man.  He  sought  peace  in  some  form  of  philoso- 
phy. The  speculative  systems  of  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle had  less  influence,  however,  than  the  con- 
crete conceptions  of  Stoic  and  Epicurean.  These 
philosophies  had  been  developed  by  influences  with 
which  the  Roman  was  familiar.  The  break  up  of 
the  city-state  and  the  intensified  sense  of  individual 
importance  resulting  therefrom,  had  made  the 
question   of   moral   direction    paramount.      Men 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     121 

wanted  peace  and  quiet  in  an  age  of  trouble,  and 
the  reflective  Roman  found  in  the  moral  passion 
and  slender  speculative  structures  of  these  prac- 
tical systems  a  tranquillity  which  nothing  else  could 
afford.  Stoicism  had  a  far  wider  influence  than 
Epicureanism,  since  it  was  congenial  to  the  Roman 
temperament ;  still  the  latter  philosophy  had  pow- 
erful advocates,  and  in  the  person  of  Lucretius,  one 
of  the  most  earnest  men  of  the  time,  it  attained  a 
moral  grandeur  that  commended  it  even  to  that 
strenuous  age. 

The  advantage  of  these  systems  over  more  spec- 
ulative tj^pes  lay  in  the  fact  that  they  were  in- 
tensely dogmatic,  professedly  ethical  in  their  aims, 
and  their  teaching  could  be  expressed  in  easily 
remembered  maxims.  It  naturally  found  its  way 
into  popular  preaching  and  was  a  frequent  subject 
for  discussion  in  the  schools  of  declamation.^ 

The  tendency  to  philosophic  discussion  is  strik- 
ingly shown  in  the  writings  of  Cicero,  but  it  was 
the  signal  achievement  of  Lucretius  that  he  trans- 
formed a  series  of  loosely  related  speculations  into 
a  rigid  dogma,  characterised  b}^  scientific  consis- 
tency, poetic  fire  and  spiritual  enthusiasm.^ 

The  great  poem  of  Lucretius,  on  the  "Nature  of 

^  See  Boissier:  "Tacitus  and  Other  Roman  Studies/'  Eng. 
Trans.,  p.  163,  passim. 

^Fowler:  "Social  Life  at  Rome  in  the  Age  of  Cicero," 
p.   329. 


1^2  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

Tilings,"  is  a  religious  phenomena.  It  probably- 
had  little  influence  on  his  generation,  but  as  an 
expression  of  opinion  on  the  urgent  question  of 
moral  direction  it  is  of  the  first  importance.  This 
poem  reveals  a  mighty  intellect  of  melancholy  tem- 
perament and  spiritual  sensibility,  trying  to  ad- 
just itself  to  the  eternal  issues  of  Hfe  in  the  face 
of  a  most  discouraging  outlook.  "Some  men," 
says  Henry  Osborn  Taylor,  "live  in  the  eternities, 
and  must  at  their  peril  keep  in  tune  with  them. 
The  need  of  adjustment  belongs  to  them  pecu- 
liarly." '^  This,was  the  inspiration  of  ^'De  Eerum 
Natura/' 

According  to  Lucretius  the  evil  of  the  time  had 
a  body  and  a  soul.  The  body  consisted  of  political 
disorders  which  could  be  cured  by  no  known  pre- 
scription. The  soul  of  evil  he  finds  in  a  tyranny 
of  fear;  cliiefly  the  fear  of  gods,  and  the  fear  of 
what  might  hai)pen  after  death.  "This  terror, 
therefore,  and  darkness  of  mind  must  be  dispelled 
not  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  and  glittering  shafts  of 
day,  but  by  the  aspect  and  law  of  nature."  ^  Like 
all  Epicureans  he  beheved  in  the  existence  of  gods, 
but  he  held  that  they  took  no  interest  in  human  af- 
fairs.   They  dwell  "in  their  tranquil  abodes,  which 


^  "Deliverance/'  p.  2. 

^  "The  Nature  of  Things/*  Bohn  edition,  Munro's  trans- 
lation^ p.  43. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS    123 

neither  winds  do  shake  nor  clouds  drench  with 
rains,  nor  snow  congealed  by  sharp  frosts  harms 
with  hoary  fall:  an  ever  cloudless  ether  o'er  cano- 
pies them,  and  they  laugh  with  light  shed  largely 
round.  Nature,  too,  supplies  all  their  wants  and 
nothing  ever  impairs  their  peace  of  mind."  ^  Re- 
ligious ceremonies  designed  to  propitiate  the  gods 
were  gi'oundless  and  irrational.  The  fear  of  what 
might  happen  after  death  was  equallj^  false,  since 
the  soul  was  mortal  and  perished  with  the  body. 
He  developed  the  Epicurean  theory  of  atoms  into 
a  rigid  dogma  in  order  to  prove  the  truth  of  these 
contentions.  It  was  best,  he  thought,  to  know  the 
truth.  His  aim,  you  see,  was  not  to  make  men  at 
home  in  the  world,  but  to  get  them  through  it  with 
credit.  He  had  no  remedy  for  political  disorders, 
and  little  social  passion.  He  does  not  expect  any 
change  for  the  better.  His  single  aim  is  to  provide 
safe  conduct  through  an  intolerable  world.  Per- 
haps his  point  of  view  was  that  of  many  cultivated 
men  of  the  time.  The  paramount  need  was  an 
estimate  of  life  that  could  quiet  the  mind.  Lucre- 
tius believed  he  had  found  this  in  the  atomic  theory 
of  Epicurus.  With  imdncible  dogmatism  and  pro- 
phetic fervour  he  preached  salvation  through  the 
study  of  the  nature  of  things.  Since  religion  and 
immortality  were  delusions,  it  were  best  to  rid 

^  Op.  Cit,  pp.  83-84. 


124j  the  religion  OF  POWER 

one's  self  of  such  fancies  and  face  the  future  with 
a  tranquil  mind. 

No  man  of  that  period  more  truly  represents  the 
urgent  need  for  safe  conduct  than  Lucretius.  In 
him  we  see  a  spirit  stripped  bare  of  all  ancient  sup- 
ports, devoid  of  consolations  save  such  as  might  be 
found  within  itself,  calmly  facing  a  future,  than 
which  one  more  hopeless  or  melancholy  could 
hardly  be  conceived. 

The  important  thing  to  remember  is  that  Lucre- 
tius hated  religion.  His  powerful  ethical  spirit 
turned  round  upon  the  religious  observances  of 
the  time  with  relentless  scorn,  and  his  earnest  scep- 
ticism cleared  the  threshing  floor  of  a  ruck  of  su- 
perstitions, and  made  it  easier  in  the  following 
century  to  believe  in  rehgion  as  a  moral  dynamic. 
But  what  did  Lucretius  mean  by  religion?  When 
we  think  of  religion  we  think  of  churches,  and 
spiritual  relationsliips  based  upon  a  divine  revela- 
tion. But  of  religion  such  as  tliis,  Lucretius  knew 
nothing.  By  ''religio"  he  meant  two  things :  first 
a  nervous  fear  of  gods,  and  secondly,  rites  and  cere- 
monies devised  to  rid  man  of  this  fear.  In  other 
words  "religio''  meant  nervousness,  dread,  super- 
stition. ''Religid"  manifested  itself  in  rites  and 
sacrifices  designed  to  propitiate  the  gods,  and 
while  the  poet  had  an  instinctive  reverence  for 
the  traditional  observances   of  liis   race,   he  re- 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AIMONG  THE  ROMANS    125 

garded  everything  that  went  by  the  name  of  cult  or 
worship  as  an  expression  of  superstition. 

There  was  much  in  those  days  to  justify  this 
notion  of  rehgion.  The  notion  of  an  Absolute 
and  Infinite  God  has  always  been  a  painful  one 
to  a  mind  unassisted  by  a  revelation  instinct  with 
a  noble  ethic.  Too  vast  for  the  comprehension  of 
a  finite  intelligence,  it  has  always  been  easy  to 
break  it  up  into  a  number  of  parts  and  associate 
them  with  what  is  visible,  familiar  and  human. 
But  so  soon  as  man  had  made  the  gods  in  his  own 
likeness,  he  became  dissatisfied  with  them,  and  the 
sense  of  the  eternal  passing  beyond  these  visible 
and  inadequate  forms  peopled  the  universe  with 
nameless  terrors.  The  Greeks  were  most  success- 
ful in  humanising  the  gods;  and  yet  the  altar 
that  Paul  saw  in  Athens  was  significant  of  the 
fact  that  men  realised  the  impossibility  of  express- 
ing the  Infinite  through  finite  forms,  and  had  un- 
derwritten the  uncomprehended  elements  of  divin- 
ity and  worshipped  them  under  the  comprehensive 
designation  of  "unknown  gods." 

The  consequence  of  such  a  tendency  has  always 
been  disastrous.  For  man  began  to  think  of  gods 
as  dwelling  everywhere.  They  dwelt  on  the  earth 
in  birds,  and  beasts  and  creeping  things ;  in  trees 
and  stones  and  running  brooks.  They  dwelt  in 
the  heavens,  in  the  sun  and  the  moon  and  the  silent 


126  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

stars.  All  these  deities  assume  the  character  and 
participate  in  the  passions  of  men.  The  tyranny 
of  elemental  spirits  was  common  in  the  time  of 
Lucretius.  The  nervousness  of  life  which  fear  of 
the  gods  inspired  was  transferred  to  the  gods 
themselves.  They,  too,  were  nervous,  capricious 
and  irritable.  You  never  could  tell  what  a  god 
would  do;  you  never  could  tell  what  he  wanted; 
what  would  please  one  might  offend  another.  Be- 
sides you  never  could  be  sure  where  the  gods  lived, 
and  you  had  to  be  careful  how  you  moved  about 
the  world.  You  might  step  on  a  god,  or  eat  him  or 
offend  him  some  way ;  and  although  nothing  hap- 
pened in  this  life,  yet  in  the  dread  Acherusian 
quarters  in  the  under-world  the  angry  god  would 
await  you  with  a  long-cherished  vengeance. 

A  layman  was  helpless  before  this  dread,  and  it 
delivered  him,  body  and  soul,  into  the  hands  of  the 
professional  religionist.  A  man  could  not  marry, 
go  on  a  journey  or  make  a  purchase  without  pro- 
fessional advice.  Armies  and  fleets  were  held  up 
because  the  auspices  were  unfavourable.  The 
sooths a^^er,  diviner  and  religious  quack  flourished 
on  this  weakness.  The  rich  had  many  diviners, 
but  the  poor  had  to  take  their  chance. 

The  Romans  of  the  last  century  of  the  Republic 
were  as  dependent  on  the  priest  as  moderns  are 
upon  the  physician.    The  fear  of  gods  was  analo- 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS    127 

gous  to  the  present-day  fear  of  germs.  Disease  in 
those  times  was  regarded  as  due  to  a  daemon;  "if 
you  could  drive  him  out  you  could  cure  the  disease. 
The  same  sort  of  tiling  is  now  said  of  bacilli,  which, 
however,  have  the  advantage  that  they  can  be  seen 
under  the  microscope."  ^^ 

This  nervous  dread  was  what  Lucretius  meant 
by  'Weligio/'  His  age  was  priest-ridden,  ignorant 
and  superstitious.  He  was  convinced  that  the  only 
way  to  i)eace  lay  through  a  scientific  study  of  the 
nature  of  things.  At  one  blow  he  would  destroy 
the  fear  of  gods  and  the  fear  of  death.  It  was  a 
sorrowful  time  at  best.  The  world  was  full  of  dis- 
order, injustice,  slavery  and  misery;  why,  then, 
carry  a  needless  burden,  when  the  great  book  of 
nature  lay  open,  and  beside  it  stood  the  portentous 
figure  of  Epicurus — glory  of  the  Greek  race — ■ 
ready  to  interpret  it  so  that  a  wayfaring  man 
though  a  fool  need  not  err  therein? 

We  know  that  the  poet's  estimate  of  religion 
was  a  mistaken  one.  His  was  not  the  only  view 
that  could  be  taken  of  it  even  in  his  day;  but 
in  so  far  as  "religio''  meant  superstition  Lucretius 
was  right.  Although  he  had  no  moral  dynamic 
and  lacked  positive  assurance  that  he  could  remedy 
the  situation  he  had  diagnosed,  still  he  performed  a 
great   serv^ice    in    clearing   the   ground    of   alien 

^«  Lake:    "The  Earlier  Epistles  of  St  Paul/'  p.  I9G,  note. 


128  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

growths  and  prepared  the  way  for  a  view  of  re- 
Ugion  more  in  accord  with  moral  and  spiritual 

ideals. 

A  word  in  passing  must  be  said  of  Cicero.    If 
Lucretius  represented  the  scepticism  of  the  age, 
Cicero  stood  for  its  opportunism.    Prof.  Fowler 
caUs  him  "the  last-born  son  of  the  old  city-state."  " 
He  was  fond  of  philosophic  speculation,  and  espe- 
cially interested  in  the  syncretic  movement  which 
combined  Oriental  mysticism  with  Greek  ethics. 
He  was  also  fairly  well  acquainted  with  Stoic  and 
Epicurean  teaching,  and  at  one  time  in  his  life  had 
been  a  disciple  of  the  great  Syrian  Posidonius. 
Posidonius  was  the  most  learned  man  of  his  time, 
and  his  aim  according  to  Mr.  Bevan  was  nothing 
less  than  "to  make  men  at  home  in  the  universe."  '' 
Cicero  had  long  been  under  his  influence,  and 
traces  of  it  appear  in  many  of  the  great  politician's 
writings.     It  can  hardly  be  said,  however,  that 
Cicero  was  interested  in  a  personal  religion,  but 
he  thought  highly  of  religious  sanctions  as  aids 
to  good  government.    Towards  the  close  of  life, 
under  accumulating  afflictions,  he  turned  to  Sto- 
icism for  consolation:  and  by  many  treatises  on  the 
nature  of  the  gods,  divination,  moral  questions 

"  "Eoman  Ideas  of  Deity,"  p.  5.  . 

"  For  a  brilliant  account  of  Posidonius,  see     Stoics  and 
Skeptics,"  Lecture  S. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS    129 

and  the  like,  indicated  that  he  was  a  seeker  after 
God.  Fowler  thinks  that  had  he  lived  in  an  Ori- 
ental city  rather  than  in  the  metropohs  he  might 
have  been  a  "God-fearer."  ^^  I  have  often  felt 
that  under  favourable  circumstances  the  same 
might  have  been  said  of  Lucretius.  Both  men 
represent  attitudes  towards  the  question  of  safe 
conduct :  one  the  sceptical,  the  other  the  opportun- 
ist, yet  neither  indicates  the  highest  tendency  of 
the  age.    For  this  we  must  turn  to  Virgil. 

Virgil  has  exercised  a  powerful  influence  over 
the  world's  imagination,  not  only  because  of  his 
poetic  genius  but  also  on  accoimt  of  his  religious 
sensibihty.  He  was  the  most  spiritual  man  of 
the  heathen  world:  a  representative  of  a  religious 
tendency  that  commends  itself  because  it  is  rooted 
in  the  homely  soil  of  humanism. 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  him  with  Lucretius. 
Both  men  felt  that  the  evils  of  the  time  had 
reached  a  climax.  Both  had  a  healthy  dishke 
for  the  crowded  life  of  cities,  and  a  passionate 
love  for  the  open  country,  but  they  differed  widely 
in  their  outlook.  Virgil  believed  that  the  world 
was  young,  a  mighty  faith  in  that  age  of  gloom. 
He  stood  in  the  darkness,  it  was  true,  but  he  was 
waiting  for  the  dawn.  The  golden  age  was  re- 
turning upon  the  world:  that  is  why  his  poetry 

"  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  4-5. 


130  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

is  so  animated,  why  its  most  sombre  passages  are 
full  of  charm.  It  is  the  charm  of  an  eternally 
youthful  nature.  He  preached  the  worth  of  or- 
dinary man,  the  glory  of  the  great  past,  and  the 
lasting  significance  of  ancient  mythologies.  He 
is  looking  for  a  better  era :  a  time  of  brotherly  in- 
tercourse, an  epoch  of  universal  kindliness  and 
pohtical  stability  wliich  will  be  ushered  in  thi'ough 
some  personal  agency. 

It  was  far  otherwise  with  Lucretius.  He,  too, 
stood  in  the  darkness  but  he  looked  for  no  dawn. 
The  world  was  in  its  decrepitude,  and  the  sun  of 
life  had  set  forever.  The  universe  was  about  to 
break  up.  What  was  the  meaning  of  the  strange 
mistakes  of  nature  and  premature  old  age;  of  the 
collapse  of  ancient  states  and  the  passing  of  old 
simplicities,  and  this  oncoming  tumult  of  riot  and 
disturbance  and  unrestrained  passion,  but  that 
soon  the  mighty  atomic  forces  which  rage  and 
storm  beyond  the  flaming  walls  of  the  world  will 
invade  our  domain,  and  all  tilings  vanish  away, 
leaving  not  a  rack  behind.  The  peace  of  Lucre- 
tius is  the  peace  of  hopeless  abandon  and  heroic  en- 
durance ;  the  peace  of  Virgil  is  the  peace  of  restful 
confidence  and  serene  faith  in  the  future.  He 
was  as  earnest  as  Lucretius,  and  as  catholic  in  his 
tastes  as  Cicero;  but  he  lacked  the  scepticism  of 
the  one  as  he  escaped  the  opportunism  of  the 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS    131 

other.  What  was  the  secret  of  his  optimism?  I 
find  it  in  three  things:  his  spiritual  sensibility,  his 
tempered  Stoicism,  and  his  splendid  faith  in  the 
power  of  personality. 

His  spiritual  sensibility  is  revealed  by  his  faith 
in  the  native  religion.  The  ancient  mythologies, 
which  to  Cicero  were  useful  only  as  political  ex- 
pedients, were  to  the  sensitive  spirit  of  Virgil  in- 
stinct with  reality,  all  the  more  impressive  because 
tempered  by  racial  relationships  and  glorified  by  a 
splendid  tradition.  He  believed  that  these  old 
ritual  performances  embodied  the  religious  experi- 
ence of  his  people,  a  spirit  of  devotion  that  still 
lived  in  rural  communities,  and  kept  the  altar 
fires  burning  in  many  a  lowly  dwelling.  The  an- 
cient religion  had  united  the  gods  and  men  in  a 
living  bond,  and  in  spite  of  the  collapse  of  the 
city-state  and  the  oncoming  tide  of  cosmopolitan- 
ism, the  poet  believed  in  the  vitality  of  the  native 
faith,  and,  like  a  captive  Jew,  waited  for  its  restor- 
ation. 

The  Stoicism  of  Virgil  was  tempered  by  his 
humanity.  The  Stoic  consecrated  the  new  experi- 
ence of  cosmopolitanism  by  a  doctrine  of  universal 
brotherhood.  This  sense  of  human  solidarity  had 
been  steadily  growing,  and  had  come  into  Roman 
life  in  union  with  certain  Semitic  elements  wliich 
had  tempered  and  humanised  the  hard  old  creed. 


132  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

This  tempered  Stoicism,  for  which  Posidonius  was 
largely  responsible,  was  peculiarly  acceptable  to 
Virgil.  He  had  the  rare  gift  of  making  and  de- 
serving friends.  A  winsome  spirit,  he  moved 
through  his  age,  gathering  the  finest  and  best  in 
his  environment,  and  ever  giving  expression  to 
his  faith  in  man  as  man.  Living  in  the  metropolis, 
sought  after  by  the  great  and  powerful,  the  friend 
of  Augustus  and  frequently  moving  amid  the 
splendid  wickedness  of  the  age,  he  remained  to  the 
end  unspotted  and  unspoiled,  a  frank,  open- 
hearted  humanist.  His  genius  embodied  the  Stoic 
strength  without  its  hardness,  and  his  cleanness  of 
heart  kept  him  unsoiled  in  the  midst  of  evil  with- 
out loss  of  social  passion  or  pubhc  efficiency. 

Because  of  his  faith  in  human  nature,  he  felt 
that  a  time  was  coming  when  the  goodness  of  God 
would  be  brought  in  sjroipathetic  touch  with  the 
pathetic  needs  of  the  age  through  some  powerful 
personal  agency.  The  last  century  of  the  Repub- 
lic was  distinguished  by  nothing  so  much  as  a  loss 
of  faith  in  its  political  institutions.  What  could 
hold  society  together  and  impart  stability  to  gov- 
ernment? The  old  notions  did  not  suit  the  new 
needs.  The  age  wanted  a  strong  man  to  set  it 
right.  The  career  of  Julius  C^sar  brought  the 
notion  of  personal  dominion  to  full  consciousness ; 
and  when  his  death  renewed  the  strife  of  civil  war 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS      133 

the  age  eagerly  turned  to  Augustus  and  invested 
him  with  imperial  power.  Augustus  filled  the 
imagination  of  the  time,  notably  that  of  Virgil. 
There  was  a  feeling  abroad  that  something  more 
than  right  principles  was  needed  to  safeguard  the 
age  from  moral  anarchy ;  this  feeling  passing  over 
into  religion  developed  into  the  cult  of  Emperor 
worship.  Virgil  keenly  felt  the  need  of  personal 
leadership.  His  great  Roman  iEneas  might  ap- 
pear in  some  strong  man.  We  need  not  insist  that 
his  fourth  eclogue  is  a  prophecy  of  Christ,  but  in 
this  poem  he  predicts  the  return  of  the  golden 
age,  which,  under  the  leadership  of  a  child  about 
to  be  born,  shall  exceed  other  ages  in  peace  and 
good  will.  In  some  respects  this  conception  re- 
sembles Isaiah's  Messianic  predictions,  so  much  so 
in  fact  that  some  scholars  have  maintained  that 
Virgil  was  influenced  by  Jewish  prophecy.^* 
Whether  this  be  true  or  not  is  unimportant ;  what 
is  of  moment  here  is  the  great  confession  of  faith 
in  the  power  of  personality,  a  confidence  in  a  lead- 
ership that  should  stabilise  government  and  give 
peace  to  the  individual.  Virgil's  great  service  to 
his  age  consisted  in  shaping  up  its  instinctive  desire 
for  personal  direction,  in  arousing  hopeful  antici- 
pations concerning  a  change  in  the  political  and 

'*  Virgil's  "Messianic  Eclogue,"  Mayor,  Fowler  and  Con- 
way, pj).  1 15-131. 


134  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

spiritual  situation,  and  from  this  point  of  view 
he  may  be  regarded  as  a  forerunner  of  Christian- 
ity. It  is  extremely  difficult  to  resist  the  convic- 
tion that  had  he  been  more  favourably  situated, 
he,  too,  might  have  been  a  "God-fearer."  At  any 
rate  he  well  deserves  the  praise  of  Dante : 

"Thou  didst  like  him,  who  goes  by  night,  and 
carries  the  light  behind  him,  and  profits  not  him- 
self, but  makes  the  persons  following  him  wise, 
when  thou  saidst:  'The  world  is  renewed.  Justice 
returns,  and  the  primeval  time  of  man,  and  a  new 
progeny  descends  from  heaven.'  Through  thee  I 
became  a  poet,  and  through  thee  a  Christian."  ^^ 

We  now  pass  to  consider  a  great  figure  of  the 
following  century:  a  man  whose  teaching  illus- 
trates the  strength  and  weakness  of  Stoicism  in 
contact  with  practical  life — I  mean  Seneca. 

Naturally  it  may  be  asked :  Why  prefer  Seneca 
to  Epictetus  or  Marcus  Aurelius?  The  answer  is 
that  Epictetus  represents  Stoicism  in  detachment, 
a  Stoicism  of  contemplation  rather  than  action. 
His  theory  is  worthy  of  high  consideration,  but  the 
range  of  his  activities  was  so  limited  as  to  be  of 
little  value  for  our  purpose.  On  the  other  hand 
Marcus  Aurelius  was  a  public  character  of  large 
capacity.  He  realised  Plato's  dream  of  "a  phi- 
losopher on  the  throne;"  but  his  teachings  illus- 

'^^  "Purgatory/*  vv.  67-74,  Norton's  translation. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     135 

trate  the  decrepitude  of  a  system  that  was  a  weary 
old  creed  in  the  Antonine  Age.  His  attitude  is 
that  of  a  judge  rather  than  of  an  advocate;  more- 
over he  is  too  introspective  for  our  purpose.  Dr. 
Gildersleeve  aptly  calls  him  ''a  keeper  of  a  patho- 
logical peepshow."  ^^ 

What  we  wish  to  knov/  is  how  will  a  Stoic  meet 
the  trials  and  temptations  of  such  a  period  as  the 
Neronian  reign  of  terror?  We  know  what  the 
Stoic  professed;  but  we  should  like  to  know  how 
he  behaved  as  a  member  of  society  and  man  of 
affairs.  Such  considerations  make  the  career  of 
Seneca  of  immense  importance,  because  it  exhibits 
better  than  that  of  his  contemporaries  the  strength 
and  weakness  of  the  Stoic  position. 

Seneca  was  born  in  Spain  and  brought  to  Rome 
in  the  last  years  of  the  great  Augustus.  He 
grew  up  in  the  reign  of  the  gloomy  Tiberius  and 
barely  escaped  with  his  life  during  the  frantic 
reign  of  Caligula.  He  attained  a  high  position 
in  the  state  during  the  Claudian  regime,  but  fall- 
ing the  victim  of  a  plot  was  banished  to  Corsica, 
from  whence  after  eight  weary  years  he  was 
recalled  to  become  the  tutor  of  Nero.  He 
dihgently  tried  to  form  the  character  of  his  royal 
disciple  on  a  noble  model;  his  treatise  on  "Clem- 
ency" written  for  Nero's  guidance  is  a  mirror  for 

i«  "Essays  and  Studies/'  p.  300. 


136  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

princes,  and  is  one  of  his  finest  productions.  For 
a  period  he  was  one  of  Nero's  chief  ministers,  but 
his  influence  on  his  capricious  master  was  slight 
and  always  dangerous.  His  relation  to  Nero  was 
represented  in  caricatures  of  the  time  as  that  of 
a  butterfly  acting  as  charioteer  to  a  dragon.^  "^ 
Eventually  the  unnatural  relation  was  broken  off, 
and  Seneca  retired  to  his  villa  and  gave  himself 
to  philosophic  contemplation,  the  society  of  friends 
and  the  preparation  for  death.  He  died,  finally, 
by  his  own  hand  at  the  command  of  Nero  during 
the  Pisonian  conspiracy. 

The  character  of  Seneca  is  full  of  violent  con- 
trasts and  these  often  appear  in  his  writings.  Per- 
haps there  never  was  a  man  of  such  intellectual 
force  and  moral  sensibility  so  entangled  in  a 
world  that  he  despised,  yet  lacked  strength  of 
character  to  forsake.  Rich  beyond  the  dreams  of 
avarice,  he  is  constantly  preaching  the  glory  of 
poverty.  He  knew  the  burden  and  the  danger  of 
wealth.  "A  great  fortune  is  a  great  slavery,"  he 
writes  to  Polybius.^^  It  was  his  wealth  rather 
than  his  supposed  complicity  in  the  conspiracy  of 
Piso  that  made  him  an  object  of  Nero's  vengeance. 
While  professing  Stoic  principles  he  often  lived 
in  Epicurean  surroundings.     Obliged  by  public 

^^  Grant:     "The  Ethics  of  Aristotle/'  Vol.  I,  p.  351. 
^®  "Minor  Dialogues,"  Bohn  edition,  p.  360. 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     137 

duty  to  mingle  in  corrupt  society,  he  vainly  longed 
for  quiet  and  seclusion.  Graver  things  have  been 
said  of  him.  There  are  tales  of  shameless  intrigue 
and  possibly  he  was  implicated  in  the  murder  of 
Agrippina.  As  a  youth  it  is  likely  he  had  a  fair 
share  in  the  vices  and  follies  of  his  time.  The 
truth  is,  Seneca  was  naturally  disinclined  towards 
•corrupt  society  and  under  favourable  circum- 
stances would  have  more  thoroughly  realised  the 
Stoic  ideal;  but  situated  as  he  was,  his  strength 
and  weakness  are  alike  revealed  in  almost  every 
action.  During  his  Corsican  exile  the  brother  of 
Polybius  died.  Polybius  was  the  rich  and  influ- 
ential freedman  of  the  Emperor;  and  to  him  on 
that  occasion  the  exile  wrote  a  letter  of  consolation, 
ostensibly  to  offer  his  sympathy,  but  in  reality  to 
enlist  the  powerful  henchman's  services  in  securing 
his  recall.  In  this  letter  he  indulges  in  outrageous 
flattery  of  Claudius,  when  at  heart  we  know  he 
thoroughly  despised  the  man.  If  we  desire  to 
know  his  real  opinion  of  the  Emperor  we  should 
read  the  ''JLudus  de  Morte  Claudii"  a  pitiless 
satire  on  the  supposed  efforts  of  Claudius  to  enter 
into  heaven.^ ^  In  fact  Seneca  was  sometliing  of  a 
sycophant  and  timeserver,  and  it  is  easy  to  hold  the 
opinion  that  has  prevailed  from  Dion  Cassius  to 

^®  Translated  in  the  Locb  Classics  under  tlie  title:  "The 
Pumpkinification  of  Claudius." 


138  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

Carlyle  that  he  was  a  trimmer  and  a  hypocrite. 
In  some  respects  he  is  very  like  Bunyan's  By- 
Ends.  But  there  is  something  more  to  be  said.  If 
through  weakness  he  often  descends  into  the  sink  of 
iniquity,  which  in  those  days  yawned  at  the  feet  of 
pubhc  men,  he  rises  frequently  to  sublime  heights 
of  moral  aspiration  and  spiritual  contemplation. 
In  his  last  days  the  man  was  penitent,  contrite, 
and  passionately  interested  in  moral  reformation. 
At  heart  he  wished  to  do  right,  but  found  him- 
self often  obliged  to  make  concessions  that  he 
knew  to  be  wrong.  He  lacked  power  to  break 
away  from  an  evil  environment;  he  sought  in 
Stoicism  something  that  would  give  him  strength 
to  check  inherent  weakness,  and  he  probably  suc- 
ceeded as  well  as  any  well-meaning  man  of  his 
age.  It  was  easy  for  Epictetus  to  lay  down  the 
law  in  his  state  of  detachment ;  it  was  pleasant  for 
Marcus  Aurelius  to  indulge  in  introspective  specu- 
lations during  the  leisure  of  his  military  cam- 
paigns; but  it  was  altogether  another  matter  to 
live  like  a  Stoic  in  the  circles  of  society  where 
Seneca's  interests  lay;  and  the  man's  inconsis- 
tencies make  him  all  the  more  interesting  as  show- 
ing the  strength  and  weakness  of  Stoic  principles 
in  contact  with  real  life. 

Stoicism  was  Seneca's  religion.     Many  of  his 
precepts  are  very  like  those  of  Holy  Writ,  and  an 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     139 

interesting  parallel  might  be  drawn  between  his 
teaching  and  that  of  Paul.  This  indicates  that 
in  his  powerful  intellect  the  ethical  significance  of 
life  was  being  sharpened  by  an  intensified  sense  of 
God. 

He  had,  as  Prof.  Dill  has  indicated,  to  an  un- 
usual degree  the  power  of  moral  diagnosis.  He 
had  the  fatal  gift  of  insight,  and  looked  deeply  into 
the  heart  of  the  age.  He  saw  its  sins  and  weak- 
nesses, its  sullen  hates  and  vain  ambitions,  its 
keen  desires  and  abortive  remedies.  IVIore  than  all 
else  he  was  aware  of  its  profound  melancholy. 
"Look  round  you,  I  pray  you,  upon  all  mortals," 
he  writes  to  Polybius;  "everywhere  there  is  ample 
and  constant  reason  for  weeping.  .  .  .  Tears  will 
fail  us  sooner  than  causes  for  shedding  them.  Do 
you  not  see  what  sort  of  life  it  must  be  that  Nature 
has  promised  us  men  when  she  makes  us  weep  as 
soon  as  we  are  born?"  ^^ 

Seneca's  insight  was  due  to  his  perception  of 
moral  reality;  he  seemed  to  feel  as  if  the  drab 
life  of  the  age  was  overlooked  by  an  unattainable 
Purity.  He  had  no  adequate  remedy  for  evil 
save  to  fall  back  on  the  familiar  principle  of  Stoi- 
cism that  what  could  not  be  cured  must  be  cnchu'cd. 
And  his  chief  aim  was  to  tem])er  this  endurance 
with  sympathetic  understanding.    He  was  a  good 

=«  Op.  Cit.,  p.  357. 


140  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

diagnostician,  but  a  poor  healer,  and  he  knew  it. 
He  is  not  willing  to  preach  the  hard  old  creed 
of  self-sufficiency,  because  his  own  sad  experi- 
ence had  made  him  realise  the  need  of  a  dynamic. 
But  he  tempered  his  Stoicism  with  humanism. 
He  was  full  of  pity  and  compassion  for  the  over- 
wrought age,  and  so  he  became,  to  use  a  phrase 
of  Prof.  Dill,  "a  spiritual  director."  ^^  Philosophy 
became  a  quest  for  consolation  and  a  meditation 
on  death.  He  shows  us  better  than  any  contem- 
porary writer  how  philosophy  was  ready  to  aban- 
don the  effort  to  set  things  right,  and  accommodate 
itself  to  immediate  human  necessity.  The  prime 
need  of  the  time  was  for  consolation,  and  so 
Seneca  became  a  consoler,  a  lay-pastor  who  was 
among  the  people  as  one  : 

"Who  most  has  suffered,  takes  dejectedly 
His  seat  upon  the  intellectual  throne. 
And  all  his  store  of  sad  experiences  he 
Lays  bare  of  wretched  days; 
Tells  his  misery's  birth  and  growth  and  signs. 
And  how  the  dying  spark  was  fed. 
And  how  the  breast  was  soothed,  and  how  the  head 
And  all  his  hourly  anodynes."  ^^ 

We  have  now  traced  the  ethical  quest  for  safe 
conduct  from  its  inception  in  the  age  of  enlighten- 
ment among  the  Greeks  to  its  culmination  in  the 
resignation    and    sadness    of    the    Roman    Stoic 

^^  "Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  Marcus  Aurelius/'  Book 
III,  Chapter  1. 

22  Matthew  Arnold-     "The  Scholar  Gipsy." 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS    141 

Seneca.  The  real  test  of  the  rehgious  status  of 
a  people  is  not  what  is  manifest  in  the  lowest 
expression  of  life,  but  what  is  missing  from  the 
highest  reaches  of  aspiration.  As  M.  Denis 
remarks;  "When  one  wishes  to  find  the  conscience 
of  a  people,  it  is  not  always  in  their  actual  be- 
haviour that  it  should  be  sought  for :  it  is  often  en- 
tirely present  in  their  prayers  and  in  their  re- 
grets." ^^  And  this  is  the  impression  such  a  review 
of  ethical  opinion  makes  upon  the  mind  of  the 
impartial  reader.  The  moral  passion  of  that  age 
was  running  far  in  advance  of  its  moral  jDower. 
Its  main  problem  was  how  to  translate  ''gnosis" 
into  ''dunamis/'  It  had  great  ideals,  but  was 
keenly  aware  of  their  impotence.  What  it  wanted 
was  a  virtue-making  power  that  could  transform 
precept  into  practice  and  ideals  into  character. 
The  distinctive  service  of  the  ethical  thinkers  of  the 
period  was  in  making  the  problem  explicit ;  in  de- 
fining its  limits,  in  sifting  out  the  various  methods 
of  accommodating  the  human  spirit  to  the  imperi- 
ous need  for  adjustment,  and  finally,  by  their 
confessions  of  futihty,  showing  the  utter  inade- 
quacy of  any  scheme  of  reform  based  on  human 
nature. 

These  great  men  could  draw  near  and  hear  wliat 

"Quoted  by  Angus:     "The  Environment  of  E.xriy  Chris- 
tianity/' p.  ao. 


142  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

God  would  say,  but  few  there  were  who  could 
hear  for  others.    Not  one  of  them,  unless  it  be 
Virgil,  had  any  message  of  encouragement  for 
the  masses  of  the  people.    They  have  nothing  to 
say  for  the  plain  man.    Their  ways  of  adjustment 
were  open  only  to  certain  highly  endowed  classes; 
and  eventually  within  these  favoured  groups  the 
pessimism,  sadness,  and  resignation  serve  better 
than  anything  in  that  age  to  show  that  what  the 
world  needed  was  not  a  diagnostician  but  a  healer, 
not  a  reformer  but  a  Saviour. 

Even  then,  had  they  been  aware  of  it,  there  were 
some  who  were  looking  for  adjustment  in  another 
direction.     Another  teaching  was  abroad  in  the 
land.    You  would  not  find  it  in  the  temples  of  the 
mystery  religions  nor  in  the  lecture  halls  of  the 
philosophers,  but  you  could  hear  it  proclaimed  in 
the  humble  synagogue  of  the  Jew  of  the  disper- 
sion.   Many  gentiles  had  broken  away  from  the 
native  religion;  they  were  stiU  less  incHned  to 
adopt  one  of  the  Oriental  cults  then  epidemic  in  the 
empire;  neither  were  they  looking  for  adjustment 
in  the  direction  of  philosophy.    Their  keenest  wish 
was  for  a  dynamic  personality  functioning  in  hu- 
man history.    They  were  waiting  for  a  deliverer,  a 
redeemer;  and  while  waiting  for  him  had  grouped 
themselves,  "a  fringe  of  devout  heathenism,"  round 
the  Jewish  synagogue.  They  were  attracted  by  the 


ETHICAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  ROMANS     143 

ethical  monotheism  of  Judaism  and  inspired  witli 
its  Messianic  ho2:)es.  This  brings  us  to  the  Jew, 
and  opens  the  way  for  a  study  of  a  third  phase  of 
the  quest  for  safe  conduct,  that  manifestation  of 
religious  experience  which  seeks  adjustment  with 
God  by  means  of  legal  obedience  to  a  revealed  law. 


LECTURE  V 

THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS 


LECTURE  V 

THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS 

In  turning  from  the  gentile  to  the  Jew  we  pass 
from  the  region  of  speculation  to  the  domain  of 
revealed  religion.  The  primitive  religious  impulse 
has  been  defined  as  "man's  effective  desire  to  be  in 
right  relation  to  the  Power  manifesting  itself  in 
the  universe."  The  imperious  need  for  adjust- 
ment led  to  certain  quests  or  pilgrimages.  Hither- 
to we  have  considered  the  pilgrimage  of  the  imagi- 
nation which  culminated  in  the  mystery  religions, 
and  the  pilgrimage  of  the  mind  which  manifested 
itself  in  the  ethical  speculations  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans.  We  now  take  up  the  pilgrimage  of  the 
conscience  which  reached  its  climax  in  the  legalism 
of  the  Jews. 

The  consideration  of  this  question,  however, 
has  certain  limitations.  We  are  not  to  ask  what 
the  religion  of  Israel  was  intended  to  be  under  the 
providence  of  God;  nor  what  that  religion  was  in 
the  teacliing  of  the  prophets,  but  wliat  it  came  to 
be  under  tlie  distorting  influences  of  Jewisli  par- 
ties. We  wish  to  understand  wliy  the  Jew  rejected 

147 


148  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

his  Messiah  in  the  age  when  Christianity  began  its 
westward  movement. 

The  failure  of  the  Jew  is  one  of  the  great  trage- 
dies of  history.  Christianity  met  with  greater  re- 
ceptivity among  gentiles  than  among  Jews ;  God- 
fearers  pressed  into  the  kingdom  ahead  of  the 
chosen  people,  and  a  race  that  God  had  trained  for 
centuries  rejected  its  Messiah  while  heathen  peo- 
ples received  Him  gladly.  How  shall  this  failure 
be  accounted  for?  The  explanation  lies  deep  in 
the  history  of  the  past. 

In  becoming  the  special  object  of  Divine  provi- 
dence the  Jew  had  three  distinct  advantages  over 
other  peoples.  In  the  first  place  he  had  a  revela- 
tion of  the  true  God.  The  monotheism  of  Israel 
was  the  direct  outcome  of  revelation  and  not  the 
product  of  a  slow  evolution.  Not  only  did  the 
Jew  have  the  idea  of  one  God,  but  this  notion  of 
Deity  was  founded  not  as  among  heathen  peo- 
ples on  unlimited  power,  but  upon  character.  The 
one  God  was  a  holy  and  righteous  God.  In  the 
second  place,  the  Jew  enjoyed  a  covenant  rela- 
tion to  God ;  he  was  a  chosen  instrument  of  Divine 
providence.  In  the  third  place  the  Jew  was  in 
possession  of  a  Divine  law.  All  these  features  gave 
him  a  distinct  advantage  over  other  peoples. 

What  then  was  the  notion  of  salvation  held  by 
the  average  Jew?    How  did  he  answer  the  ques- 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     149 

tion  of  getting  right  with  God?  This  is  a  fair 
question,  and  cannot  be  answered  by  a  study  of 
the  prophetic  teaching,  or  of  the  function  of  the 
law  as  it  was  interpreted  by  special  revelation.  Our 
question  is  rather  with  the  notion  of  religion  as  it 
lay  in  the  popular  mind.  The  religious  problem 
of  the  Jew  was  less  complex  than  that  of  the  gen- 
tile. The  gentile  had  to  determine  the  nature 
and  attitude  of  the  power  manifesting  itself  in 
the  universe  from  speculations  of  various  kinds; 
and  he  never  could  be  sure  that  he  was  right.  With 
the  Jew,  on  the  contrary,  the  problem  was  very 
simple.  The  power  manifested  itself  in  a  revela- 
tion. The  supreme  God  had  chosen  Israel  for  a 
special  destiny  and  given  it  a  law.  How  then 
did  the  idea  of  right  relations  with  God  appear 
to  the  average  Jew? 

Apparently  it  passed  through  two  distinct 
stages.^  From  the  settlement  in  Palestine  to  the 
return  from  the  Babylonian  exile,  the  ordinary 
Jew  had  a  very  simple  answer  to  the  question  of 
right  relations.  Being  a  member  of  the  chosen 
race  and  a  child  of  Abraham,  he  reasoned  that  lie 
was  born  in  right  relation  with  God.  Beheving 
that  he  was  the  Iieir  to  all  the  covenant  promises, 
he  does  not  appear  to  have  seriously  questioned  liis 
religious  status.     Eventually  this  led  to  the  de- 

*  F.  B.  Westcott:     "St.  Paul  and  Justification,"  pj).   11-11. 


150  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

velopment  of  a  conventional  morality  in  harmony 
with  the  ritual  and  legal  requirements  of  the  law  of 
Moses;  and  finally  this  notion  of  ritual  obedience 
came  into  conflict  with  the  moral  sense  of  the  race, 
especially  with  the  teaching  of  the  prophets.  We 
are  quite  familiar  with  the  stubborn  resistance  of 
the  popular  religion  to  all  forms  of  prophetic  in- 
fluence. It  was  not  possible  for  the  average  Jew 
to  question  his  religious  status  so  long  as  he  be- 
lieved that  he  was  born  in  right  relations  with 
God.  The  question  of  safe  conduct  as  an  individ- 
ual problem  does  not  appear  to  have  been  raised 
until  after  the  exile. 

But  the  Babylonian  captivity  produced  very 
profound  changes  in  the  Jewish  view  of  religion. 
It  had  much  the  same  general  effect  on  the  Jew 
as  the  collapse  of  the  city-state  had  upon  the 
spirit  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  So  long  as 
Jerusalem  stood  inviolate  the  average  Jew  lived 
undisturbed  in  his  national  exclusiveness.  He  was 
deaf  to  the  warnings  of  conscience,  and  equally 
indifferent  to  the  prophetic  teaching.  But  when 
Jerusalem  was  destroyed  by  the  Babylonians  it 
meant  the  end  of  the  old  theocratic  state.  The 
death  blow  to  national  security  brought  the  ques- 
tion of  spiritual  relationships  definitely  within  the 
ken  of  individual  consciousness. 

The  exile  sharpened  the  sense  of  ethical  mono- 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     151 

theism;  it  made  the  average  Jew  aware  of  the 
spirituahty  of  God ;  it  brought  the  will  of  the  Al- 
mighty into  direct  contact  with  a  sensitive  con- 
science. The  natural  result  was  to  intensify  the 
conception  of  spiritual  reahty. 

The  new  sense  of  spiritual  reality  broke  down 
the  two  barriers  which  hitherto  had  enabled  the 
Jew  to  live  at  ease  in  Zion.  On  the  one  hand* it 
substituted  the  church  for  the  state.  The  old 
theocratic  state  having  ceased  with  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem,  a  new  notion,  that  of  a  spiritual  com- 
munity, came  into  the  mind  of  the  Jew,  and  right 
status  with  God  was  conceived  as  a  personal  rather 
than  a  national  one.  On  the  other  hand,  by  placing 
emphasis  on  the  moral  rather  than  the  ritual  as- 
pects of  the  law — since  with  the  fall  of  Jerusalem 
he  also  lost  contact  with  the  temple  worship — it 
sharpened  the  sense  of  individual  responsibility  and 
made  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  a  personal  one. 
For  the  first  time,  the  average  Jew  became  aware 
of  the  force  of  prophetic  teaching.  It  was  better 
to  obey  than  sacrifice,  and  righteousness  was  be- 
lieved to  be  more  acceptable  than  burnt  offerings. 
The  new  feeling  of  si:)iritual  reality  had  destroyed 
communal  morality  and  developed  the  notion  of 
personal  morality.  The  primacy  of  individual 
life  was  distinctly  taught  by  Ezekiel.  One  of  the 
common  complaints  of  the  exiles  was  that  they 


152  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

were  suffering  for  the  sins  of  their  fathers.  "Our 
fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes,"  they  said,  "and 
our  teeth  are  set  on  edge."  But  Ezekiel  told  them 
that  this  proverb  should  no  longer  be  cuiTent  in 
Israel,  for  "the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die.  The 
son  shall  not  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  father,  neither 
shall  the  father  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  son;  the 
righteousness  of  the  righteous  shall  be  upon  him, 
and  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked  shall  be  upon 
him."  2 

The  net  result  of  the  exile  was  to  bring  the 
question  of  safe  conduct  to  the  front  as  a  problem 
for  the  individual.  This  led  to  a  development  of 
vast  significance  for  the  future  of  Israel. 

From  the  beginning  of  their  return  from  the 
Babylonian  captivity,  the  Jews  were  troubled  by 
two  tendencies — a  nationalist  tendency  and  a  cos- 
mopolitan tendency.  On  the  one  hand  some 
wished  to  keep  Israel  exclusive  and  separate  from 
other  nations;  they  were  ambitious  to  restore  the 
race  to  its  old  position  as  a  separate  state.  On  the 
other  hand  some  felt  the  attraction  of  Persian  in- 
fluence. They  were  in  favour  of  a  more  liberal 
policy  of  dealing  with  other  peoples.  One  was  a 
tendency  towards  spirituality,  the  other  a  drift 
towards  secularism. 

This  difference  of  opinion  was  very  acute  when 

xviii:  20. 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS      153 

Ezra  began  his  work  of  reforai.  His  problem 
was  a  dual  one.  It  was  important  at  the  outset 
to  secure  national  solidarity.  He  was  afraid  of 
the  cosmopolitan  tendency  because  he  believed  that 
if  this  policy  should  prevail  the  Jew  would  lose 
his  racial  distinctiveness.  But  it  was  clear  that  the 
old  city-state  could  not  be  restored.  The  bond  of 
union,  then,  could  not  be  a  political  one.  It  must 
be  distinctly  religious.  He  solved  the  political 
difficult}^  by  dealing  with  it  from  the  standpoint  of 
a  religious  reformer.  But  the  idea  of  religion 
needed  definition,  because  the  spiritual  experience 
of  the  exile  had  subordinated  ceremonialism  to 
moral  considerations,  and  the  problem  of  right 
relations  had  become  a  matter  for  conscience  to 
determine.  Obviously  he  could  not  base  his  re- 
ligious hopes  on  a  repetition  of  the  old  temple  serv- 
ices ;  these  were  still  important,  but  they  were  not 
then  fundamental.  Ezra,  therefore,  determined 
to  make  the  moral  law  the  basis  of  national  solidar- 
ity; and  this  was  highly  expedient,  since  it  was  in 
harmony  with  the  new  spiritual  requirements  of 
the  individual.  The  Jew  could  no  longer  be  sat- 
isfied with  a  communal  morality;  neither  could  he 
satisfy  his  conscience  by  the  reflection  that  he  was 
right  with  God  because  he  was  a  child  of  Abra- 
Iiam.  He  had  outgrown  this  view.  He  must 
find  a  basis  of  right  relations  in  something  that  he 


154  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

could  do.  But  since  he  could  not  be  content  with 
ritual  observances  he  was  compelled  to  develop  his 
religious  activities  in  harmony  with  the  moral 
aspect  of  life.  In  brief  he  must  find  an  ethical 
sanction  for  conduct. 

Ezra  rightly  comprehended  the  need  of  the 
time,  and  endeavoured  to  satisfy  it  with  a  fresh 
promulgation  of  the  law  of  Moses.  Under  the 
pre-exilic  regime  the  ordinary  Jew  was  content 
with  racial  relationships ;  but  under  the  post-exilic 
regime  he  adjusts  himself  to  God  through  legal 
relationships.  This  new  basis  for  national  sepa- 
rateness,  conforming  as  it  did  so  accurately  with 
the  need  of  the  times,  sufficiently  accounts  for  the 
success  of  Ezra's  reforms.  The  secular  party, 
which  desired  more  liberal  relations  with  gentiles, 
was  defeated  by  the  religious  party  which  de- 
sired to  preserve  racial  exclusiveness  by  means 
of  a  legal  bond.  The  secularists  gravitated  to- 
wards the  temple  and  its  ritual  services  and  even- 
tually assumed  the  duties  of  the  priests,  while  the 
religious  party,  being  in  the  majority,  gravitated 
towards  the  law,  and  eventually  became  the  domi- 
nant influence  in  the  synagogue  worship. 

But  a  new  development  immediately  set  in, 
because  the  law  had  to  be  interpreted,  and  the 
new  order  of  Scribes  arose  in  Israel,  whose  duty 
it  was  to  expound  and  explain  the  law.    Bui  the 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     155 

law  not  only  required  exposition,  but  also  ad- 
justment and  expansion  to  meet  the  constantly 
growing  needs  of  the  people.  In  pre-exilic  times 
this  was  the  work  of  the  prophets,  but  since  in 
post-exilic  times  the  voice  of  prophecy  was  si- 
lenced, the  duty  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Scribes. 
And  the  interpretations  and  expansions  of  the 
Scribes  developed  a  body  of  oral  tradition  known 
as  the  unwritten  law,  and  was  so  closely  identified 
with  the  written  law  as  to  be  regarded  of  equal 
importance;  and  the  composite  structure  was 
finally  accepted  as  the  standard  authority  for 
Jewish  religion. 

As  time  passed  the  religious  and  secular  ten- 
dencies drifted  further  apart  and  began  to  crys- 
tallise into  distinct  parties  with  different  policies 
of  government  and  conflicting  national  ideals. 
The  secular  party  identified  itself  with  the  temple 
services,  while  the  religious  party  concentrated 
its  interest  on  the  interpretation  of  the  written 
and  oral  law  and  the  development  of  the  syna- 
gogue worship;  until  towards  the  close  of  the 
second  century,  B.  C,  we  find  them  with  specific 
names.  The  secular  tendency  associated  with  the 
temple  worship  developed  into  the  party  of  tlie 
Sadducees,  while  the  religious  tendency  asso- 
ciated with  the  synagogue  developed  into  tlie 
party  of  the  Pharisees;  and  these  parties  were  di- 


156  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

rectly  responsible  for  the  tragic  failure  of  the 
Jew. 

The  Sadducees  were  the  direct  descendants  of 
the  priestly  party  which  towards  the  close  of  the 
Greek  period  wished  to  Hellenise  the  Palestinian 
Jews.^  They  were  a  cosmopolitan  party  whose 
religious  interests  were  limited  to  the  conserva- 
tion of  the  temple  ritual  and  the  enjoyment  of 
priestly  privileges;  and  for  the  preservation  of 
these  rights  they  were  always  willing  to  compro- 
mise with  gentile  influences  in  behalf  of  the 
status  quo.  As  a  rule  they  were  of  the  nobil- 
ity. Religion  was  an  expedient  in  the  interest  of 
worldly  position.  The  Sadducee  ordinarily  was 
a  man  of  culture  and  refinement,  a  creature  of 
loose  and  often  sceptical  views  and  at  heart  a  sec- 
ularist. His  opposition  to  Jesus  was  based  less 
on  a  religious  than  a  political  ground.  He  ad- 
vocated the  crucifixion  of  the  Saviour  on  the 
ground  that  His  mission  was  a  seditious  one.  It 
was  better,  in  his  view,  that  one  man  should  die 
than  that  the  whole  nation  should  perish.  Apart 
from  this  aspect,  his  influence  on  the  problem  of 
safe  conduct  was  negligible. 

The  Pharisee,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  most  in- 
teresting, as  he  is  the  most  pathetic  figure  in  Jew- 

^  Hastings'  Dictionary  of  the  Bible:  Article  "Sadducees." 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     157 

ish  history  after  the  exile.^  From  the  beginning  of 
that  momentous  experience  there  had  been  a  re- 
hgious  or  separatist  party  in  Jerusalem.  Dur- 
ing subsequent  changes  of  fortune,  tliis  party 
had  consistently  exalted  the  written  and  oral  laws 
above  ritual  performances;  and  as  consistently 
feared  and  opposed  every  attempt  to  bring 
Judaism  into  harmony  with  the  cosmopolitan  ten- 
dencies of  the  age.  The  world  had  outgrown  sim- 
ple conceptions  of  government,  and  since  Alex- 
ander's conquests  the  East  and  West  had  been  in 
intimate  contact;  still  there  were  many  Jews  who 
honestly  believed  that  the  wave  of  cosmopolitan- 
ism could  be  successfully  resisted ;  and  as  the  gen- 
tile world  pressed  hard  upon  the  little  nation,  the 
party  of  separation  persistently  emphasised  a  le- 
gal relation  to  God  as  the  basis  for  racial  solidar- 
ity. Towards  the  close  of  the  second  century  B. 
C,  the  tendency  of  separation  had  developed  into 
a  powerful  party  known  as  the  Pharisees. 

The  Pharisees  differed  from  the  Sadducees  in 
many  important  particulars.  Fundamentally  they 
were  a  religious  party,  while  the  Sadducees  were 
secularists.  But  there  were  other  differences.  The 
Pharisees  stoutly  maintained  the  authoritj^  of  tlie 

*  Hastings,  Op.  Cit.,  Article,  "Pharisees."  For  an  aj)- 
preciation  of  the  Pharisee,  see  Herford's  "Pharisaism." 
Crown  Theological  Library. 


158  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

oral  law  and  put  it  on  a  level  with  the  law  of 
Moses.  They  were  full  of  missionary  zeal.  Our 
Saviour  said  that  they  would  "compass  sea  and 
land  to  make  one  proselyte."  ^  They  were  men 
of  the  synagogue  rather  than  of  the  temple,  but 
were  chiefly  distinguished  by  their  principle  of 
separation.  They  took  solemn  vows  to  have  no 
dealings  with  gentiles,  and  they  were  not  willing 
to  give  religious  privileges  to  the  "people  of  the 
land."  They  were  zealously  interested  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  written  and  the  oral  law,  and 
in  the  time  of  Christ  the  traditions  of  the  elders 
had  assumed  such  a  complicated  form  that  it  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  them  from  the  original  de- 
posit of  revelation.  Moreover  they  had  enlarged 
the  sphere  of  the  ceremonial  law  until  it  compre- 
hended the  most  minute  phases  of  conduct. 

The  Pharisees  were  the  most  religious  men  of 
their  age,  the  Puritans  of  the  first  century  before 
Christ,  and  we  are  obliged  to  recognise  their  ear- 
nestness and  sincerity.  They  preserved  a  spiritual 
view  of  religion  in  the  era  of  syncretism  which  fol- 
lowed Alexander's  conquests,  when  so  many  re- 
ligions and  philosophies  lost  their  distinctive  char- 
acter. Moreover  we  must  admit  that  the  vices  of 
the  Pharisees  were  not  personal,  but  those  of  the 
system.     They  were  victims  largely  of  conscien- 

^  Matthew  xxiii:15. 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     159 

tious  wrong-headedness,  and  their  influence  over 
later  Judaism  was  paramount. 

What  was  the  source  of  Pharisaic  influence? 
To  answer  this  we  must  return  to  the  question 
raised  by  the  Babylonian  exile.  That  question 
was :  How  can  a  man  get  right  with  God  ?  The 
exile  had  taught  the  Jew  that  the  old  notion  of 
right  relations  through  Abrahamic  descent  was 
not  suflicient.  A  new  feeling  of  individual  re- 
sponsibility forced  him  to  seek  for  a  personal 
method  of  satisfying  his  conscience.  The  strength 
of  the  Pharisee's  position  lay  in  the  fact  that  he 
answered  this  question  in  a  way  that  was  in  many 
respects  adequate  for  the  needs  of  the  time. 

The  Pharisee  held  that  a  right  relation  with 
God  could  be  obtained  by  means  of  legal  obedi- 
ence to  a  revealed  law.  Originally  the  law  was 
contained  in  the  ten  commandments,  but  since 
prophecy  had  ceased  it  became  necessary  to  elab- 
orate the  original  law  so  as  to  meet  new  condi- 
tions; hence  had  developed  a  vast  body  of  tradi- 
tions and  interpretations  known  as  the  oral  law. 
The  law,  written  and  oral,  was  the  only  rule  of 
faith  and  practice.  The  law  had  the  advantage 
of  being  concrete.  Men  felt  that  they  must  do 
something  to  be  saved.  It  was  this  feeling  tliat 
gave  such  great  influence  to  the  Scribes  and  Phar- 
isees.    The  irrcat  tradition  eventually  assumed  a 


160  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

Divine  significance  and  the  Pharisees  began  to 
teach  the  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  the  law.  From 
many  points  of  view  the  real  God  of  the  Pharisee 
was  the  law. 

But  the  law  was  given  to  the  chosen  people 
only ;  obedience  was  the  religious  bond  of  the  Jew- 
ish race,  and  its  perfect  working  seemed  to  depend 
on  a  restoration  of  the  state  to  its  former  inde- 
pendence. The  supremacy  of  the  law  was  bound 
up  with  a  revival  of  nationahsm,  and  this  concep- 
tion of  the  mission  of  the  Jew  determined  the 
characteristic  points  of  view  of  the  Pharisee  in 
the  time  of  Christ.  First,  he  insisted  that  man 
was  saved  by  the  law,  that  the  law  was  eternal 
and  unchangeable,  and  he  was  determined  to  re- 
sist any  change  or  innovation.  He  consistently 
opposed  Jesus  because  He  would  not  accept  his 
view  of  the  law.  The  intense  patriotism  of  the 
Pharisee  led  him  to  interpret  destiny  in  national 
rather  than  in  spiritual  terms ;  at  least  he  regarded 
spiritual  dominion  as  conditioned  by  national  in- 
dependence, and  this  led  him  to  think  of  his  Mes- 
siah as  an  earthly  rather  than  as  a  spiritual  ruler. 

Both  powerful  parties  among  the  Jews  ex- 
pected a  Messiah,  and  both  looked  for  national 
security  as  a  result  of  His  reign.  But  while  the 
Sadducee  thought  of  political  security  as  an  end, 
the  Pharisee  regarded  it  as  a  means  only.    I  think 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     161 

the  Sadducee  would  have  been  content  with  a 
Messiah  subject  to  Roman  rule.  He  would  have 
been  satisfied  with  any  phase  of  political  life  that 
allowed  him  to  enjoy  unmolested  his  priestly  priv- 
ileges. If  this  new  relationship  permitted  him  to 
indulge  his  cosmopolitan  tendencies,  so  much  the 
better. 

But  the  Pharisee  held  a  sterner  view.  Political 
security  was  a  necessary  means  of  attaining 
spiritual  dominion,  and  he  would  have  been 
content  with  nothing  less  than  a  restoration  of 
the  old  theocratic  state,  and  a  complete  separa- 
tion of  the  Jew  from  gentile  influence.  He  was 
not  afraid  of  a  revolution.  In  fact  he  wished  for 
it,  and  probably  expected  the  Messiah  to  begin 
it.  The  Sadducee  feared  nothing  so  much  as  sedi- 
tion; hence  the  secularist  opposed  Jesus  because 
His  principles  seemed  inimical  to  the  status 
quo;  the  religious  enthusiast  opposed  Him  be- 
cause His  teaching  was  hostile  to  Pharisaic  inter- 
pretations of  the  law. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  why  the  Pharisee  mis- 
conceived the  Messianic  mission;  it  is  also  easy 
to  comprehend  his  failure  to  accept  Christianity. 
But  his  failure  was  significant  of  another  thing. 
It  was  significant  of  the  breakdown  of  the  idea  of 
salvation  based  on  legal  observances;  and  it  is 


162  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

with  this  aspect  of  the  question  that  we  are  mainly 
concerned. 

The  Pharisaic  system  was  the  best  product  of 
later  Judaism;  in  fact  it  was  the  best  the  Jew 
could  offer  to  gentiles;  and  its  failure  to  accom- 
plish the  desired  result  is  an  impressive  illustra- 
tion of  the  failure  of  the  third  great  quest  for 
safe  conduct,  which  was  one  of  the  distinguishing 
features  of  the  religious  situation  during  the  west- 
ward movement  of  Christianity. 

The  Pharisaic  system  failed  for  three  reasons: 
it  misconceived  the  law  of  Moses;  its  conception 
of  religion  could  not  satisfy  the  moral  sense;  and 
it  could  not  successfully  resist  foreign  influences. 

The  Pharisee  misconceived  the  law  of  Moses. 
He  believed  that  the  law  had  been  given  as  the 
way  of  salvation,  but  this  is  contrary  to  the  teach- 
ing of  the  Scriptures.  What  was  the  Biblical 
function  of  the  law?  This  is  an  important  ques- 
tion, and  can  be  answered,  I  think,  in  a  simple 
way.  The  function  of  the  law  was  a  dual  one:  it 
was  that  of  a  diagnostician  and  of  a  schoolmaster. 

In  the  first  place  the  law  was  given  in  order 
that  it  might  diagnose  a  moral  situation  that  called 
for  redemption.  A  law  was  needed  to  define  sin, 
since  where  there  is  no  law  there  is  no  clear  con- 
sciousness of  sin.  From  the  beginning  man  had 
been  haunted  by  a  sense  of  evil ;  by  a  feeling  that 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     163 

he  was  not  right  with  God.  It  was  moral  uneasi- 
ness that  developed  the  primitive  religious  impulse 
into  "an  effective  desire  to  be  in  right  relations 
to  the  Power  manifesting  itself  in  the  universe." 
A  law  written  on  the  heart,  while  effective  in 
making  man  uneasy,  could  not  without  further 
definition  work  a  spiritual  change  in  his  view  of 
his  need.  The  function  of  the  law  was  to  diagnose 
the  trouble,  to  create  the  notion  of  sin.  It  did 
this  in  two  ways.  The  Shorter  Catechism  defines 
sin  as  "any  want  of  conformity  unto,  or  transgres- 
sion of,  the  law  of  God."  On  the  one  hand,  sin 
has  a  horizontal  aspect.  Before  the  law  came 
man  did  what  was  right  in  his  own  eyes;  lines  of 
behaviour  crossed  and  recrossed  each  other  with- 
out interference;  but  when  the  law  was  given,  a 
straight  line  was  drawn  through  human  conduct, 
and  at  every  point  man's  actions  appeared  cross- 
ing and  recrossing  this  line.  That  is  the  meaning 
of  transgression.  The  law  created  the  notion  of 
sin  as  disobedience  and  lawlessness ;  it  revealed  sin 
in  its  positive  or  commission  asj^ect.  On  the  other 
hand  sin  has  a  perpendicular  aspect.  Before  the 
law  came  man  was  aware  of  not  being  in  riglit  rela- 
tions with  God.  Something  was  wrong  with  liis 
cliaracter  structure,  something  lacking,  but  wliat 
he  could  not  tell  but  vaguely;  ])ut  when  tlie  law 
was  given,  a  plumb  line  was  dropped  down  beside 


164  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

the  character  structure  and  it  was  seen  to  be  out 
of  plumb.  This  created  the  notion  of  sin  as  a 
want  of  conformity,  of  sin  in  its  negative  or  omis- 
sion aspect.  The  effect  of  the  law  was  to  sharpen 
and  make  definite  what  was  imphcit  in  experience. 
Transgression  and  want  of  conformity  were  the 
elements  always  present  in  the  life  of  a  fallen  man. 

In  the  second  place  the  law  was  given  to  act  as 
a  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  to  Christ.  A  school- 
master in  the  old  days  was  not  a  teacher,  but  an 
attendance  officer.  It  was  his  duty  to  bring  the 
pupil  to  the  school,  and  when  he  turned  him  over 
to  the  teacher  his  work  was  done.  This  is  Paul's 
argument  in  Galatians.  ^  The  law  revealed  man's 
desperate  situation.  It  was  a  situation  calling 
for  remedy.  The  moral  law  diagnosed  the  situa- 
tion, and  the  ceremonial  law,  through  its  types  and 
sacrifices,  was  a  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  to  Christ. 
Christ  was  the  Lamb  of  God  who  came  to  take 
away  the  sins  of  the  world.  And  the  law  was  most 
efficient.  If  the  moral  law  made  man  aware  of 
his  need,  the  ceremonial  law  suggested  an  ade- 
quate remedy. 

But  the  Pharisee  misconceived  the  law.  In- 
stead of  regarding  it  in  its  Scriptural  light,  he 
turned  it  into  the  way  of  salvation;  and  under 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS    165 

his  skilful  manipulation  it  became  a  burdensome 
imposition  upon  an  already  overloaded  people. 

The  Pharisaic  system  failed,  because,  by  rigidly 
limiting  the  law  to  externals,  it  failed  to  satisfy 
a  growing  moral  sense.  This  was  a  constant  criti- 
cism of  Jesus.  The  law  as  the  Pharisees  under- 
stood it  did  not  go  deep  enough.  Applied  exclu- 
sively to  the  outer  manifestations  of  life,  it  could 
not  influence  the  thoughts  or  satisfy  the  con- 
science. 

In  previous  lectures  we  have  noticed  a  very  sig- 
nificant phase  of  ethical  development;  how  the 
growing  moral  sense  of  a  people  will  turn  round 
upon  ancient  religious  traditions  and  cut  them  to 
pieces,  or  transform  them  ethically.  It  does  not 
require  an  extended  examination  to  discover  that 
this  process  was  going  on  within  Pharisaism  it- 
self. Take  the  case  of  Saul  of  Tarsus.  Exter- 
nally his  career  as  a  Pliarisee  appears  satisfying. 
Believing  himself  blameless  before  the  law,  he 
does  not  seem  to  question  his  religious  status. 
But  an  examination  of  some  of  the  autobiograph- 
ical references  in  his  epistles  raises  a  question 
whether,  after  all,  his  satisfaction  did  not  mask  a 
profound  uneasiness,  as  of  a  sense  of  something 
lacking,  of  an  experience  inconsistent  with  liis 
ideals. 

It  is  difficult  to  saj^  to  wliat  precise  period  we 


166  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

may  assign  that  remarkable  analysis  of  experience 
contained  in  the  7th  chapter  of  Romans.  This 
chapter  is  a  "chamber  of  horrors  and  an  Iliad 
of  woes"  and  there  is  much  in  it  that  seems  to  re- 
fer to  his  pre-Christian  experience.  As  a  Chris- 
tian he  boasts  of  the  freedom  of  his  spirit;  he  is 
conscious  of  a  feeling  of  harmony  within  himself 
produced  by  faith  in  the  gospel ;  while  the  chapter 
under  review  indicates  a  mighty  struggle  between 
a  law  in  the  members  and  a  law  in  the  mind,  quite 
out  of  harmony  with  his  professions  of  liberty. 
For  my  own  part,  I  am  convinced  that  this  chap- 
ter refers  in  some  measure  at  least  to  his  experi- 
ence under  the  law.  If  he  could  look  upon  the 
law  as  limited  to  externals,  he  might  be  content; 
but  this  was  precisely  what  so  earnest  a  nature 
could  not  do.  In  spite  of  his  Pharisaic  training 
the  law  became  spiritual  and  inward;  it  ceased 
to  be  a  mere  preceptive  influence  and  became  a 
power  that  searched  his  very  soul.  A  diagnosti- 
cian is  often  incapable  of  suggesting  a  remedy, 
but  he  can  make  his  patient  profoundly  uneasy 
by  telling  him  what  is  the  matter  with  him.  In 
Paul's  case  the  law  worked  better  as  a  diagnosti- 
cian than  as  a  schoolmaster.  We  have  noticed 
how  the  growing  moral  feeling  among  Greeks  and 
Romans  tended  to  widen  and  deepen  the  rift  in 
the  soul,  and  to  produce  a  feeling  of  conflict  be- 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     167 

tween  flesh  and  spirit.  Aristotle  expresses  it  as 
a  conflict  between  reason  and  passion  in  these 
words:  "It  is  clear  that  there  is  in  man  another 
principle  which  is  naturally  different  from  reason 
and  flghts  and  contends  against  reason.  For  just 
as  the  paralysed  parts  of  the  body,  when  we  in- 
tend to  move  them  to  the  right,  are  drawn  away 
in  a  contrary  direction  to  the  left,  so  it  is  with  the 
soul ;  the  impulses  of  incontinent  people  run  coun- 
ter to  reason."  '^ 

What  speculation  was  doing  for  the  gentile,  the 
law  was  doing  for  many  Jews  as  earnest  as  Saul 
of  Tarsus.  How  accurately  he  sums  up  the  case 
in  the  familiar  phrase:  "To  will  is  present  with 
me,  but  how  to  perform  that  which  is  good,  I  find 
not."  ^  This  is  a  confession  of  a  need  for  a  virtue- 
making  power;  a  demand  for  a  remedy  adequate 
to  meet  a  situation  created  by  the  law.  It  is  also 
a  confession  that  power  to  meet  this  need  is  not 
to  be  found  in  human  nature.  And  this  was  prac- 
tically the  same  conclusion  reached  by  ethical 
tliinkers  from  Plato  to  Seneca.  Speculation  de- 
veloped the  conviction  in  the  gentile  mind,  and  the 
law  created  it  for  the  Jew,  and  both  were  brought 
to  the  same  level.  Pharisaism  failed  simply  be- 
cause it  could  not  meet  the  growing  demands  of 

^  "Ethics,"  Welldon's  translation,  p.  32. 
'^  vii:18. 


168  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

the  moral  sense,  and  this  failure  is  significant  of 
the  failure  of  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  by  means 
of  legal  obedience.  A  man  might  keep  the  ex- 
ternal demands  of  the  law,  and  still  be  far  from 
attaining  peace.  He  had  to  reckon  with  an  inner 
experience  which  the  law  could  sharpen  and  in- 
tensify, but  in  no  wise  relieve,  save  as  by  suggest- 
ing submission  to  Christ.  I  do  not  mean  to  assert 
that  thinking  alone  would  have  made  Paul  a 
Christian ;  but  I  do  beheve  that  a  profound  feeling 
of  dissatisfaction  with  the  Pharisaic  programme 
made  it  easier  to  yield  to  Christ,  when  he  was  con- 
vinced that  He  had  risen  from  the  dead.  In  his 
epistles  he  attacks  the  law  in  no  academic  spirit. 
His  passionate  assertion  of  the  freedom  of  the 
Christian  against  the  tyranny  of  tradition  is  the 
offspring  of  a  conviction  that  the  Pharisaic  con- 
ception of  the  law  was  not  only  inadequate,  but 
positively  harmful.  But  he  gave  the  law  credit 
for  performing  its  divine  function;  it  was  an  at- 
tendance officer  to  bring  men  to  Christ.  When 
this  was  accomplished  its  work  was  done.^ 

Pharisaism  failed  in  the  third  place  because  it 
could  not  successfully  cope  with  foreign  influences. 
This  is  apparent  from  the  history  of  the  Jew  of 
the  dispersion.  The  power  of  the  Pharisee  was 
exercised  in  the  synagogue.     The  Sadducee  was 

®See  MacGregor's  "Christian  Freedom/'  passim. 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     169 

a  man  of  the  temple ;  as  an  ecclesiastical  politician 
he  had  little  interest  in  provincial  enterprises. 
The  Pharisee,  on  the  contrary,  vitally  influenced 
the  life  of  the  provincial  Jew  because  the  bond  of 
racial  solidarity  was  the  synagogue  service.  But 
in  spite  of  this  the  Pharisee  found  it  difficult  to 
plant  legalism  in  gentile  soil.  The  Jew  of  the  dis- 
persion emphasised  the  ethical  rather  than  the  le- 
gal aspect  of  religion.  Separated  by  time  and 
distance  from  the  temple  services,  he  was  less  in- 
terested in  ceremonial  observances  than  his  Pal- 
estinian brother.  Moreover,  he  was  less  suscepti- 
ble to  Pharisaic  exclusiveness  and  more  open  to 
cosmopolitan  influences.  This  is  indicated  by  the 
speech  of  Stephen,  a  Jew  of  the  dispersion.  He 
devoutly  believed  in  the  temple  and  the  law  as  di- 
vine institutions,  but  clearly  saw  that  they  had 
been  superseded  by  Christianity.  Under  such 
circumstances  the  notion  of  ethical  monotheism 
as  the  foundation  of  spiritual  religion  became  clear 
and  explicit.  But  the  enlargement  of  the  moral 
significance  of  God  tended  to  educate  the  con- 
science and  intensify  the  struggle  between  the  liu- 
man  will  and  tlic  ethical  imperatives  of  tlie  law; 
and  the  net  result  was  a  sense  of  inadequacy  in  the 
old  way  of  salvation.  The  ,Tew  of  the  dispersion 
was  far  more  willing  to  receive  Christianity  than 
his  Palestinian  kinsman,  not  only  because  his  mind 


170  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

was  open  to  new  influences,  but  because  the  new 
religion  adequately  met  the  demands  of  the  eth- 
ical nature. 

In  these  particulars  we  have  an  explanation  of 
the  failure  of  Pharisaism.  By  misconceiving  the 
law,  so  far  from  providing  a  way  of  salvation,  the 
Pharisee  actually  made  the  quest  for  safe  conduct 
more  acute,  since  the  law  developed  the  moral 
sense  and  made  man  aware  of  the  inaptitude  of 
external  righteousness.  Our  Saviour  told  the  dis- 
ciples that  unless  their  righteousness  should  ex- 
ceed that  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  they  could 
not  enter  the  kingdom.  Possibly  many  Jews  of  the 
dispersion  felt  the  same  thing.  The  growing  eth- 
ical feeling  of  the  time  made  external  methods  of 
salvation  unfit  and  useless,  and  created  a  demand 
for  a  virtue-making  power  that  could  give  man  an 
undisputed  status  before  the  most  High  God. 
The  failure  of  Pharisaism  was  the  failure  of  the 
third  phase  of  the  quest  for  safe  conduct. 

Our  consideration  of  the  background  of  early 
Christianity  has  been  limited  to  a  study  of  certain 
persistent  forms  of  spiritual  experience.  The 
primitive  religious  impulse  is  "the  effective  desire 
to  be  in  right  relation  to  the  Power  manifesting 
itself  in  the  universe."  We  have  examined  three 
historic  answers  to  this  imperious  need.  Some 
souffht  adjustment  through  ritual,  others  through 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS    171 

ethical  reflections,  and  others,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Pharisee,  through  legal  observances;  and  the 
quests  for  safe  conduct  failed  because  they  could 
not  provide  a  virtue-making  power;  they  were 
unable  to  evolve  a  moral  dynamic  of  sufficient  force 
to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  growing  ethical  pas- 
sion. Every  endeavour  to  attain  peace  naturally 
increased  the  moral  urgency  of  the  quest,  and  in 
the  period  under  review  this  feeling  was  para- 
mount. Where  in  the  midst  of  this  welter  of  re- 
ligions, philosophies,  and  rituals  could  man  find  a 
virtue-making  power?  The  age  was  too  impa- 
tient to  listen  to  argument ;  it  was  beginning,  too, 
to  weary  of  mere  dogma.  It  most  intensely 
craved  the  appearance  of  a  power  manifest  in  ex- 
perience and  working  its  will  in  historic  forms 
and  comprehensible  ways.  The  most  pathetic 
figures  of  the  time  were  men  like  Seneca  or  Mar- 
cus Aurelius,  representatives  of  the  ethical  quest; 
or  men  of  the  Pharisaic  type,  who  held  the  impos- 
sible hope  of  a  restoration  of  the  ancient  national 
exclusiveness.  But  they  were  men  of  the  past. 
The  more  promising  figures  of  the  age  on  the 
other  hand  were  Jews  of  the  dispersion,  and  God- 
fearing gentiles.  They  were  men  of  the  new  age, 
who  could  hope  and  aspire  and  gi^ow.  This  was 
the  han^st  which  our  Saviour  could  see.  It  lay 
out  there  in  the  gentile  world,  prepared  by  ccn- 


172  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

turies  of  struggle  and  deferred  hopes,  of  inapt 
speculations  and  unfruitful  moral  experiences. 

What  could  Christianity  do  for  that  age? 
What  could  it  say  of  the  need  for  moral  power? 
Could  it  satisfy  the  passionate  desire  for  safe 
conduct?  Was  it  too  a  mere  theory,  or  a  religion 
of  myths  and  symbols  and  ritual  performances? 
Was  it  another  ethical  philosophy,  or  new  legal- 
ism— another  link  in  the  chain  of  bondage — or  was 
it  a  virtue-making  power,  a  story  of  a  Mighty 
Personality  that  had  come  into  the  world,  to  seek 
and  to  save? 

This  was  the  inspiriting  situation  that  con- 
fronted the  many-sided  mind  of  Paul  when  he 
looked  beyond  the  narrow  confines  of  Judaism 
to  the  Grgeco-Roman  world.  And  this  vision  of 
opportunity  is  the  explanation  of  his  confidence 
when  he  writes  to  the  Roman  Christians;  "I  am 
not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  for  it  is  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that 
believeth;  to  the  Jew  first  and  also  to  the 
Greek."  ^^  In  the  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians 
he  summons  the  ancient  world  to  debate  the  ques- 
tion of  safe  conduct  with  him:  "Where  is  the 
wise?  Where  is  the  scribe?  Where  is  the  dis- 
puter  of  this  world?  Hath  not  God  made  foolish 
the  wisdom  of  this  world,  for  after  that  in  the 

^oi:i6. 


THE  LEGAL  QUEST  AMONG  THE  JEWS     173 

wisdom  of  God,  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not 
God,  it  pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preach- 
ing to  save  them  that  believe."  "  For  several  cen- 
turies God  had  permitted  the  old  world  to  think 
about  the  question  of  safe  conduct,  and  while  the 
moral  strenuousness  of  life  had  become  explicit, 
and  ethical  passion  stimulated,  no  dynamic  to  meet 
the  need  had  been  devised.  The  scribe  and  the  phi- 
losopher and  the  disputer  of  this  world  were  silent 
in  the  face  of  tliis  tremendous  demand.  But  a  new 
and  entirely  different  force  had  come  into  the 
world.  It  did  not  rely  on  the  enticing  words  of 
man's  wisdom,  or  depend  on  an  ornate  ritual,  but 
was  communicated  to  man  through  faith  in  a  his- 
toric Person,  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, 
Mighty  to  save. 

"i:20-21. 


PART  TWO:     THE 
RELIGION  OF  POWER 


LECTURE   VI 

CHRISTIANITY  AS  THE   RELIGION  OF  POWER 


LECTURE    VT 

CHRISTIANITY  AS  THE   RELIGION   OF  POWER 

In  passing  to  the  constructive  part  of  the  subject 
we  must  keep  in  mind  the  significance  of  the  back- 
ground. The  background  is  important  first  as 
defining  the  feehngs  of  the  Gr^eco-Roman  world 
concerning  spiritual  relations  and  outlook;  and 
secondly,  as  indicating  the  sort  of  religion  the  age 
was  prepared  to  accept. 

The  feeling  that  characterised  the  period  was 
one  of  distress.  The  collapse  of  the  old  city-state 
had  made  it  impossible  any  longer  to  believe  in 
the  native  religion;  and  while  the  Oriental  mystery 
cults  were  widely  diffused,  they  had  little  signifi- 
cance at  that  time  for  serious-minded  intellectuals. 
This  class  ordinarily  sought  peace  in  some  form 
of  philosophy.  Epicureanism  had  many  advo- 
cates, but  the  prevailing  philosophy  was  Stoicism. 
But  while  Stoicism  proved  a  healing  and  con- 
soling influence  to  many  distressed  minds,  its  final 
effect  was  to  further  intensif}^  the  unrest  of  tliose 
who  consistently  followed  it.  It  sharpened  the 
moral  sense,  clarified  the  ethical  imperatives  of 

177 


178  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

life,  but  made  the  problem  of  safe  conduct  more 
acute.  The  want  of  a  dynamic  seriously  limited 
the  philosophy  in  the  directions  towards  which  the 
spiritual  aspiration  of  the  age  was  tending.  It 
was  realised  that  right  principles  were  not  suffi- 
cient; a  moral  dynamic  was  sorely  needed;  above 
all  there  was  a  passionate  desire  for  the  appear- 
ance of  a  power  in  the  hf  e  of  the  times  that  could 
realise  the  spiritual  aspiration  and  embody  the 
ethical  ideal  which  haunted  every  thoughtful  mind. 
Judaism  was  influential;  its  conception  of  ethical 
monotheism  powerfully  attracted  God-fearing 
gentiles;  the  promise  of  a  Messiah  had  simplified 
the  desire  of  the  age  for  a  demonstration  of  spir- 
itual power  within  the  domain  of  history;  yet  it 
was  felt  that  something  was  wanting.  What  after 
all  was  the  advantage  of  ethical  monotheism 
if  it  only  increased  the  feeling  of  imperfection, 
and  further  enlarged  the  disproportion  between 
precept  and  performance,  which  tormented  seek- 
ers after  God?  Where,  too,  was  the  Messiah? 
Why  did  He  not  come  to  set  the  age  right  ?  Even 
should  He  come,  would  He  be  able  to  solve  the 
problem  of  safe  conduct,  and  set  man  right  with 
God? 

These  questions  of  course  did  not  assume  the 
form  of  rational  inquiry ;  but  they  represented  feel- 
ings and  instincts,  more  or  less  vague  and  incho- 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER   179 

ate,  yet  powerful  enough  to  intensify  the  moral 
distress  of  the  age. 

Furthermore,  the  feeling  of  insecurity  tended 
to  define  the  sort  of  religion  the  age  was  prepared 
to  accept.  If  it  were  indifferent  to  inherited  be- 
liefs and  weary  of  fruitless  speculation,  or  even 
critical  of  the  highest  manifestation  of  religion 
current  in  the  empire,  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  sup- 
pose that  a  religious  appeal  calculated  to  impress 
the  times  must  proceed  upon  very  different  lines. 

It  must  be  an  appeal  not  in  behalf  of  a  sup- 
posedly correct  philosophy  and  dependent  on  the 
skilful  manipulation  of  interdependent  proposi- 
tions, but  able  to  point  with  absolute  confidence 
to  historic  performances.  Such  an  appeal  could 
not  make  headway  with  promises  alone,  but  m\ist 
show  that  its  promises  were  actually  being  real- 
ised. The  problem  reduced  to  its  simplest  terms 
was  how  to  translate  ''gnosis"  into  "dunamis"; 
how  to  turn  precept  into  practice,  how  to  express 
the  moral  ideal  in  character. 

The  age  was  rich,  too  rich  in  fact  in  ideas;  it 
was  not  barren  of  ideals,  but  it  was  painfully  and 
consciously  aware  of  its  lack  of  power;  and  it  was 
keenly  felt  that  any  solution  of  the  problem  of 
safe  conduct  must  turn  not  on  the  revelation  of  a 
])erfect  moral  system,  but  uj)()n  the  ojieralion  of 
a  moral  dynamic;  upon  the  discovery  of  a  \  iitiie- 


180  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

making  power  at  work  within  the  sphere  of  man's 
experience. 

The  purpose  of  the  study  of  the  background 
has  been  to  bring  out  the  material  fact  that  the 
age  was  ready  to  accept  any  rehgion  that  proved 
itself  a  moral  dynamic  in  the  realm  of  history. 

If  we  accept  this  interpretation  I  think  it  will 
be  an  easy  task  to  show  the  originality  of  Chris- 
tianity on  its  Grseco-Roman  background.  Our 
estimate  of  the  unique  significance  of  the  new  re- 
ligion will  be  derived  from  the  writings  of  the 
Apostle  Paul,  because  he  was  the  man  chosen  by 
God  to  interpret  the  gospel  to  the  gentile  world. 
Paul  was  the  one  man  among  the  Apostles  who 
had  a  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  intellectual 
and  moral  temper  of  the  Grgeco-Roman  peoples. 
His  thoughts  and  aims  were  in  the  closest  possible 
touch  with  the  age.  He  knew  its  pecuhar  needs ; 
he  was  conscious  of  its  high  aspirations;  he  visu- 
alised its  moral  degradation  and  sympathised  with 
its  futility.  He  understood  its  philosophical  pre- 
suppositions and  rightly  estimated  its  intellectual 
limitations. 

The  chief  interest  of  Paul's  age  was  religion. 
But  the  people  as  a  rule  were  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious. To  put  light  in  the  place  of  darkness, 
to  impart  knowledge  to  the  ignorant,  above  all  to 
reveal  the  dynamic  Personality  of  Christ  to  his 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    181 

time,  was  Paul's  ruling  passion.  He  proclaimed 
the  joy  of  the  light  bearer  to  the  Athenians  in 
these  words:  *'Whom  ye  ignorantly  worship, 
Him  declare  I  unto  you."  ^ 

There  was  something  splendidly  audacious 
about  the  Christian  programme.  Its  advocates 
hoped  to  ^vin  a  world  steeped  in  philosophy,  or  en- 
meshed in  the  sensuous  attractions  of  ritual  and 
ceremony,  by  telling  it  a  simple  story.  But  the 
wisdom  of  God  is  evident  from  the  results,  for  the 
world  was  ready  to  listen  to  a  story  that  could 
correctly  define  its  need  and  provide  an  adequate 
remedy. 

What  was  there  in  the  new  religion  most  likely 
to  appeal  to  the  gentile  mind?  Surely  it  is  not 
to  be  sought  in  its  superficial  aspects,  for 
Christianity  despised  nearly  everything  that  the 
pagan  world  praised,  and  praised  nearly  every- 
thing the  pagan  world  despised.  In  the  begin- 
ning it  had  to  meet  the  test  of  ridicule ;  its  preach- 
ing was  foolishness  and  its  gospel  a  "silly  story" ; 
but  in  the  end  it  conquered  the  pagan  world  be- 
cause of  its  inner  worth.^  It  came  to  a  people 
tired  of  epigrams,  sick  of  discussions,  and  tor- 
mented by  a  moral  idealism  they  could  not  hope 
to  express  in  conduct.    It  offered  salvation,  both 

^  Acts  xTii:23. 

'-Paulsen:    "Ethics,"  p.   112. 


182  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

for  this  life  and  that  which  was  to  come,  through 
faith  in  an  historic  Personahty,  and  eventually 
such  preaching  made  a  profound  impression. 
Wherever  the  gospel  was  proclaimed  people  were 
converted  and  God-fearing  gentiles  pressed  into 
the  kingdom  with  joy  and  understanding.  Chris- 
tian communities  sprang  up  in  the  strategic  cen- 
tres of  population  in  Asia  Minor  and  in  Europe; 
and  a  splendid  church  exercised  a  glorious  minis- 
try in  the  metropolis. 

At  the  outset  the  faith  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity was  simple  and  uncritical.  The  novelty 
of  its  ideas,  the  power  of  its  promises,  and  the  joy 
of  its  experience  was  sufficient  for  the  time  being ; 
but  as  the  new  experience  began  to  challenge  the 
attention  of  the  world,  the  people  asked  questions 
about  it  and  compared  it  with  other  and  more  fa- 
miliar ways  of  salvation.  In  contrast  with  the 
mystery  cults  it  was  painfully  lacking  in  ritual 
and  in  sensuous  appeal;  in  comparison  with  cur- 
rent philosophies  it  was  singularly  barren  in  dia- 
lectic discussions  and  rhetorical  embellishments. 
But  people  were  puzzled  by  its  mobility.  Juda- 
ism was  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  synagogue 
worship  and  racial  relationships;  but  here  was  a 
religion  that  ignored  differences  of  race  and  lo- 
cality, that  could  move  freely  about  the  world,  in- 
dependent of  tradition  or  local  attachments.     It 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    183 

had  all  the  attractive  features  of  the  mystery 
cults,  such  as  the  open  church,  the  non-secular 
clergy,  and  it  satisfied  the  social  passion  of  the 
time  in  its  community  life.  Moreover,  it  breathed 
lofty  hopes  of  immortality  and  fellowship  with 
the  eternal  God,  and  yet  so  far  from  depending  on 
symbol  or  myth,  or  expressing  itself  in  ornate  rit- 
ual, it  founded  its  promises  on  an  historic  Person- 
ality. It  promised  to  unite  man  to  God  in  such 
a  way  as  to  fully  satisfy  spiritual  aspiration,  and 
by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  to  impart  power  to  the 
realisation  of  the  moral  ideal.  It  promised  these 
things,  the  very  things  the  age  passionately 
wanted,  but  could  it  accomplish  them? 

That  was  the  crucial  question,  for  it  raised  the 
problem  of  performance.  At  the  outset  it  is  quite 
likely  that  many  whose  faith  in  the  mystery  cults 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  discovery  that  Cybele, 
Attis  or  Osiris,  so  far  from  being  historic  per- 
sons, were  myths  and  symbols  only,  had  demanded 
some  proof  of  the  historic  reality  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Was  the  splendid  object  of  gentile  faith,  the  glori- 
ous Saviour  of  the  Pauline  gospel,  a  mytli  or  a 
reality?  Had  He  once  lived  uj)on  tlie  earth,  or 
was  He  a  product  of  the  t]ieoh)gical  imagination? 
Sucli  (jucstioning  was  inevitable,  and  at  first  it 
was  easy  to  satisfy  it  by  oral  testimony.  There 
were  many  alive  at  that  early  stage  of  tlu-  cliurch 


184  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

who  had  from  the  first  been  eye  witnesses  of  the 
majesty  of  Jesus,  and  their  testimony  was  ade- 
quate to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  growing 
community.  But  as  time  passed,  and  the  churches 
multiplied — especially  as  the  great  leaders  either 
suffered  martyrdom  or  were  cast  into  prison — the 
desire  for  a  permanent  record  of  the  earthly  life 
of  Jesus  led  to  the  writing  of  the  gospels.  The 
characteristic  demand  for  a  dynamic  Personality 
probably  influenced  Mark  and  Luke  in  the  choice 
of  materials,  in  order  to  exhibit  the  mighty  power 
of  Christ  as  the  world's  Saviour. 

But  the  problem  was  growing  all  the  time,  and 
as  spiritual  life  matured  it  demanded  intellectual 
stimulus ;  sentiments  and  impulses  required  a  solid 
basis  of  conviction.  The  demand  of  the  age  for  a 
dynamic  quality  in  religion  was  steadily  forcing 
the  advocates  of  Christianity  to  prove  that  it  was 
a  religion  of  power.  The  question  was  assuming 
a  concrete  form:  was  Christianity  a  religion  of 
ideals  or  of  performances  ?  If  it  was  a  power,  how 
did  it  function  in  history?  What  were  the  evi- 
dences of  its  strength?  What  were  the  elements 
of  its  efficiency? 

The  new  faith  was  arousing  criticism.  Jews 
were  speaking  of  the  cross  as  a  stumbling  block, 
and  Greeks  were  calling  the  gospel  a  "silly  story." 
Was  Christianity  after  all  to  prove  a  disappoint- 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER   185 

ment?  In  the  end  would  it  turn  out  to  be  as  futile 
as  a  mystery  cult,  or  as  ineffective  as  a  philosophic 
theory? 

Paul  realised  that  it  was  impossible  to  stifle  or 
ignore  intellectual  inquiry,  and  he  deliberately 
challenged  the  intelligence  of  his  age,  as  he  has  of 
succeeding  ages,  by  a  direct  appeal  to  reason. 
But  liis  appeal  was  very  simple  and  strikingly 
original.  It  had  nothing  of  the  complexity  of 
current  speculations.  It  was  made,  not  in  the  in- 
terests of  a  philosophy  of  religion,  but  in  behalf 
of  historic?  demonstration.  His  ultimate  aim  was  to 
tell  the  age  what  Christianity  is,  but  his  immedi- 
ate concern  was  to  show  what  Christianity  can  do. 

The  age  demanded  a  test  of  Cliristianity ;  and 
while  it  still  clung  to  the  ancient  obsession  that  its 
needs  might  be  met  by  some  philosophic  or  ethical 
theory,  it  was  inclined  on  practical  grounds  to  be 
suspicious  of  any  religious  appeal  that  resembled 
tlie  futile  methods  with  which  it  was  painfully  fa- 
miliar. The  age  still  thought  of  religion  from  a 
speculative  point  of  view,  but  it  was  feeling  after 
God  because  it  wanted  a  dynamic;  and  tliis  con- 
fusion in  the  mind  of  the  age  suggests  two  ways 
of  testing  a  religion. 

Mr.  Balfour  has  reminded  us  of  the  double  as- 
pect of  all  beliefs.^    On  the  one  hand  beliefs  have 

■  "Theism  and  Humanism,"  pj).  58-59- 


186  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

a  position  in  a  cognitive  series,  and  on  the  other, 
hand  behefs  have  a  position  in  a  causal  series. 
When  beliefs  are  viewed  under  a  cognitive  aspect 
we  are  interested  principally  in  a  more  or  less  suc- 
cessful interrelation  of  a  series  of  interdependent 
propositions,  and  this  method  followed  to  its  log- 
ical conclusion  results  in  a  speculative  view  of  re- 
ligion. But  when  beliefs  are  viewed  under  a 
causal  aspect,  our  interest  is  principally  in  a  "tem- 
poral succession  of  interdependent  events."  Our 
aim  is  not  to  formulate  a  system,  but  to  discover 
power.  We  may  be  unable  to  attain  a  perfect 
systeni  of  truth;  still  if  we  can  discover  a  divine 
power  functioning  in  the  events  of  history  and  the 
experience  of  mankind  we  may  attain  an  historic 
basis  for  faith. 

As  was  intimated  in  the  introductory  lecture,  I 
desire  to  base  my  interpretation  of  Paulinism  on 
this  latter  conception.  Paul  was  tremendously 
interested  in  a  systematic  development  of  Chris- 
tian truth,  and  for  many  minds  such  a  systematic 
conception  of  religion  is  a  prime  necessity;  still 
it  is  clear  that  most  of  us  cannot  withhold  our  as- 
sent to  Christianity  until  we  get  a  complete  and 
comprehensive  theory  of  it.  We  must  seek  an 
adequate  basis  for  religious  faith  in  a  knowledge 
of  the  functions  of  Christian  power.  I  believe 
that  a  systematic  view  of  religious  truth  is  highly 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    187 

desirable,  but  I  am  very  well  aware  that  for  most 
men  it  is  impossible;  and  I  am  confident  that  a 
perfectly  satisfactory  basis  for  faith  can  be  found 
in  the  causal  aspect  of  Christianity.  And  I  hold 
this  view  not  only  because  it  seems  to  insure  a 
practical  and  workable  basis  for  faith,  but  also 
because  it  was  Paul's  method  of  approach  to  the 
intellectual  difficulties  of  an  age,  which  in  so  many 
important  particulars  resembles  our  own. 

The  difference  between  a  cognitive  and  a  causal 
view  of  beliefs  suggests  the  two  ways  of  testing 
a  religion.  One  is  to  investigate  its  ideas,  the 
other  is  to  examine  its  power.  One  studies  its 
principles,  the  other  considers  the  facts  and  events 
that  make  up  its  history.  One  asks:  What  is  re- 
ligion? The  other:  What  can  religon  do?  One 
is  the  test  of  discussion,  the  other  of  performances 
and  of  fruit. 

Paul's  age  was  interested  in  both  aspects  of  the 
question,  but  the  moral  stress  of  the  time  tended 
more  and  more  to  concentrate  attention  on  the 
causal  aspect.  Superficially  the  age  was  willing 
to  discuss  the  ideas  of  the  new  religion,  but  fun- 
damentally it  was  intensely  interested  in  its  per- 
formances. 

The  test  of  religion  by  means  of  discussion  is 
an  easy  test,  since  it  can  be  indefinitely  prolonged, 
and  maintain  its  credit  for  a  considerable  time 


188  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

without  peril  to  itself.  But  it  is  quite  another 
matter  when  one  falls  back  on  performances. 
That  is  the  acid  test  of  religion,  and  it  was  to  this 
acid  test  that  Paul  submitted  Christianity. 

He  seems  to  say  to  his  age  something  like  this : 
"I  could  prolong  the  discussion  of  Christianity 
indefinitely,  and  probably  aflPord  you,  as  I  once 
did  Stoics  and  Epicureans  in  Athens,  much  pleas- 
ure in  so  doing.  But  that  is  not  my  object.  I  do 
not  come  to  you  with  the  enticing  words  of  men's 
wisdom,  but  in  the  power  and  the  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit.  I  bring  you  no  complete  theory  of 
religion ;  I  do  not  wish  to  gratify  your  speculative 
ambitions,  but  I  offer  you  a  religion  of  power, 
based  on  the  hf e,  death  and  resurrection  of  a  Di- 
vine Person;  I  offer  you  personal  contact  with  a 
spiritual  dynamic  which  functioning  in  your  ex- 
perience will  bring  you  into  vital  relation  with  the 
eternal  God." 

This  was  the  crucial  question  then,  and  it  is  the 
crucial  question  now.  Is  Christianity  a  religion 
of  power?  Most  assuredly  its  originality  does  not 
lie  in  the  novelty  of  its  ideas.  Many  of  its  ideas 
are  new,  of 'course,  but  that  is  beside  the  mark. 
The  ideas  of  Christianity  are  means  to  an  end; 
in  their  doctrinal  aspect  they  are  descriptive  of 
dynamic  functions;  they  are  given  to  explain  the 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    189 

working  of  a  power.  Christianity  is  original  sim- 
ply because  it  is  a  religion  of  power. 

The  quest  for  safe  conduct  had  for  its  goal  the 
reconciliation  of  man  with  God.  It  raised  the 
question :  How  can  a  man  get  right  with  the  power 
manifest  in  the  universe,  and  tried  to  answer  it  in 
various  ways,  such  as  ritual  observances,  ethical 
speculations  and  legal  obedience  of  a  revealed 
law;  and  all  failed  simply  because  they  did  not 
have  power.  They  were  good  diagnosticians,  but 
poor  healers,  and  they  left  the  world  more  miser- 
able than  it  was  before.  The  want  of  power  gen- 
erally determined  the  most  distinctive  desire  of 
that  period.  The  absence  of  vitality  in  old  po- 
litical theories  and  ancient  forms  of  government 
led  to  a  willingness  to  entrust  the  fortunes  of  the 
state  to  a  strong  man.  The  world  in  Paul's  age 
worshipped  power  as  symbolised  in  the  Roman 
Emperor;  and  it  as  keenly  looked  for  power  in 
religious  experience.  Could  Christianity  set  man 
right  with  God,  and  keep  him  faithful  amid  life's 
increasing  perplexities?  That  was  the  supreme 
demand  made  on  the  new  faith,  and  Paul's  answer 
was  the  proclamation  of  the  religion  of  power. 

A  theory  of  power  might  explain  the  provisional 
influence  of  Christianity,  but  it  could  not  sustain 
it.  The  important  point  was  whether  the  con- 
tention was  in  accord  with  facts.     Theoretical 


190  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

cogency  and  enthusiastic  propaganda  were  not 
sufficient.  What  people  wanted  was  not  a  theory 
of  power,  but  a  demonstration  of  power  in  re- 
ligious history.  If  Christianity  were  true,  where 
were  the  evidences  of  its  power  on  the  field  of 
human  history? 

As  has  been  suggested,  this  need  in  the  begin- 
ning was  met  by  the  gospels.  The  people  were 
assured  that  the  glorious  Christ  of  the  Pauline 
preaching,  so  far  from  being  a  myth  or  symbol, 
was  an  historic  Personality.  But  as  the  spiritual 
life  matured  the  question  assumed  a  different 
form:  Was  the  glorious  Object  of  gentile  faith 
one  and  the  same  with  the  gracious  Figure  en- 
shrined in  the  gospel  story?  In  other  words  was 
Jesus  Christ  alive?  If  so.  He  was  dynamic;  it 
would  prove  that  the  "Still  Strong  Man  of  the 
soul's  need"  had  come,  not  as  a  symbolic  ideal 
but  an  actual  personality.  Religion  would  not 
base  itself  on  a  pious  memory  of  a  dead  Christ, 
but  upon  the  living  Lord  of  Glory.  The  death 
of  Jesus  would  no  longer  appear  as  a  calamity, 
but  as  one  of  the  links  in  a  causal  chain  of  redemp- 
tion, having  its  fitting  climax  in  an  historic  resur- 
rection. Paul  connects  these  two  conceptions  in 
the  epistle  to  the  Romans.  He  is  writing,  he  says, 
of  "Jesus  Christ,  Our  Lord,  which  was  made  of 
the  seed  of  David  according  to  the  flesh ;  but  de- 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER     191 

clared  to  be  the  Son  of  God  with  power,  according 
to  the  spirit  of 'holiness,  by  the  resurrection  from 
the  dead."  * 

The  resurrection  of  Jesus  from  the  dead  is, 
according  to  the  Apostle,  the  fundamental  demon- 
stration on  the  field  of  history  of  Christianity  as 
the  religion  of  power.  I  do  not  wish  to  enter  upon 
an  extended  examination  of  the  evidence  for  this 
stupendous  fact.  Apart  from  the  Scriptural  evi- 
dence, which  seems  to  me  entirely  adequate,  be- 
lief in  the  historic  resurrection  of  Jesus  is  an  in- 
evitable inference  from  the  whole  course  of  Apos- 
tolic history. 

It  is  frequently  asserted  that  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  is  to  be  understood  as  a  symbol  of  immortal- 
ity, or  of  the  revival  of  spiritual  life  in  man.  If 
this  were  true,  the  resurrection  could  have  no 
possible  meaning  for  historic  religion,  for  symbols 
produce  no  events.  They  belong  neither  to  the 
cognitive  nor  to  the  causal  series  of  beliefs,  but 
are  suspended  in  a  mid-region  of  ineffective  senti- 
ments and  are  of  no  possible  value  in  the  solution 
of  the  problem. 

A  symbolic  view  of  the  resurrection  is  entirely 
contrary  to  the  evidence.  The  New  Testament, 
the  only  document  on  which  we  can  depend  for 
reliable  information  on  the  subject,  nowhere  de- 

M:3-4<. 


192  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

scribes  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  as  a  symbol;  on 
the  contrary,  it  constantly  describes  it  as  a  fact — 
as  an  actual  event  in  the  sphere  of  history.  It 
was  as  much  a  fact  of  history  as  the  birth,  life  and 
death  of  the  Saviour.  If  His  death  were  an 
actual  event,  so  was  His  resurrection.  To  speak 
of  this  most  momentous  event  in  the  history  of 
mankind  as  if  it  were  a  symbol  of  ''the  renaissance 
of  the  spiritual"  is  to  substitute  rhetoric  for  his- 
toric reahsm. 

The  tradition  of  an  actual  historic  resurrection 
of  Jesus  is  as  well  attested  a  fact  of  Bibhcal 
truth  as  any  we  have.  Not  only  have  we  the 
general  consensus  of  the  Apostolic  church,  sup- 
ported by  the  amazing  vitality  of  the  gospel 
propaganda  which  professed  to  derive  its  power 
from  the  fact  of  the  resurrection,  but  we  have 
evidence  of  another  kind  of  great  significance. 

On  the  one  hand,  if  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
were  symbolic  only,  it  is  difiicult  to  understand 
why  Christianity  impressed  the  Gr^eco-Roman 
world.  The  age  was  familiar  with  symbolic  in- 
terpretations of  religion,  and  increasingly  scep- 
tical of  myths.  In  the  first  and  second  centuries 
the  pagan  theologians  were  doing  their  level  best 
to  rid  their  gods  of  the  stigma  of  myth,  and  the 
mystery  cults  failed  in  the  end  partly  because  they 
had  no  historic  roots.     But  Christianity  steadily 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER     193 

advanced  in  spite  of  persecution  and  political  op- 
position until  it  conquered  the  world,  because  it 
was  the  religion  of  power,  authenticated  by  an 
historic  resurrection. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
were  symbolic  only,  it  makes  the  problem  of  ac- 
counting for  historic  Christianity  insolvable,  ex- 
cept on  the  hypothesis  that  Paul  himself  created  it. 
Yet  to  my  way  of  thinking  the  strongest  argu- 
ment for  the  historicity  of  the  resurrection  apart 
from  the  dynamic  character  of  early  Christianity 
is  the  religious  experience  of  Paul.  He  emphatic- 
ally declares  his  conviction  that  if  there  had  been 
no  resurrection,  it  would  invalidate  the  Christian 
hope  of  salvation,  make  faith  vain,  falsify  the 
Apostolic  testimony,  and  leave  the  world  in  its 
sins.  Yet  his  life  and  ministry  were  founded  on 
this  fact,  and  reinforced  at  every  critical  stage 
by  his  spiritual  experience.^  He  was  a  man  of 
immense  intellectual  force,  in  the  prime  of  his 
career,  with  an  accurate  insight  into  the  temper 
of  his  time,  and  by  race,  and  training,  rooted  and 
grounded  in  the  most  stubborn  as  it  was  the  most 
plausible  force  opposing  Christianity,  I  mean 
Pharisaism.  Is  it  easy  then  to  believe  that  such  a 
man  would  break  with  the  spiritual  associations  of 
a  lifetime,  and  become  the  chief  advocate  of  a 

^I  Corinthians,  xv:14-19. 


194  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

despised  faith,  that  he  would  build  round  a  per- 
sonality the  exact  antithesis  of  the  Pharisaic  ideal, 
a  religion  that  professed  to  be  dynamic,  when 
all  the  time  he  knew  its  historic  pretensions  were 
mythical  and  the  central  figure  of  his  preaching, 
a  creature  of  his  imagination  ?  It  is  absolutely  in- 
conceivable. Paul  became  a  Christian  because  he 
believed  that  Jesus  was  alive.  He  was  convinced 
that  the  great  gulf  between  the  human  and  the 
divine  life  had  been  bridged  by  the  incarnation  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  the  resurrection  was  the 
historic  proof  of  a  spiritual  dynamic  operating 
within  the  sphere  of  human  experience. 

This  is  not  only  the  strongest  argument  for 
the  resurrection,  but  it  is  also  the  all-sufficient 
argument.  If  the  resurrection  be  a  fact  of  his- 
tory, it  explains  and  authenticates  all  that  precedes 
it  and  all  that  follows  it.  It  becomes  the  proof 
of  power  in  the  new  religion.  It  belongs  not 
simply  to  the  cognitive  series  of  beliefs,  but  is 
causal,  productive  and  creative.  It  explains  the 
Apostolic  faith  in  the  simple  story  of  the  cross; 
it  explains  the  persistence  of  the  gospel  testimony 
in  face  of  the  world's  opposition;  it  also  explains 
Paul's  willingness  to  submit  Christianity  to  the 
acid  test  of  performance. 

The  Apostles  did  not  preach  a  beautiful  sym- 
bolism.    The}^  were  not  interested  in  revamping 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    195 

worn-out  philosophical  platitudes;  still  less  were 
they  indulging  in  the  composition  of  lachrymose 
epistles  of  consolation.  They  were  the  enthusias- 
tic advocates  of  a  hfe-giving  power,  who  put 
behind  their  passionate  proclamations  the  courage 
and  sanity  of  rich  and  deep  conviction,  because 
they  knew  beyond  all  question  that  Christ  had 
risen  from  the  dead.  Christ  was  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation.  In  Him  dwelt  all  the  fulness 
of  the  Godhead  bodily,  and  in  Him  Christians 
were  complete.  The  age  demanded  proof  of  the 
reality  of  the  Christian  dynamic,  and  the  Apostles 
preached  the  historic  resurrection  of  Jesus. 

What  did  the  stui)endous  fact  signify?  It  sig- 
nified that  the  moral  ideal,  which  had  tormented 
ethical  thinkers  of  aU  ages,  and  never  more  than 
in  that  period,  had  finally  appeared  in  historic 
form — an  actual  fact  of  human  experience.  For 
two  centuries  thoughtful  men  had  felt  that  some- 
thing more  than  right  principles  was  needed  to 
set  man  right.  It  was  increasingly  felt  that  noth- 
ing short  of  a  personal  demonstration  would  be 
adequate;  and  many  were  trying  to  shape  their 
conduct  on  the  model  of  some  ancient  philosopher. 
The  typical  wise  man  of  the  Stoic  was  an  impos- 
sible ideal.  "The  Stoics  admitted  that  he  was  as 
rare  in  the  real  world  as  the  phoenix;  Socrates, 
perhaps,  and  Diogenes  h^d  attained;  or  perhaps 


196  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

not  even  they."  ^  What  the  world  needed  was  a 
demonstration  of  the  ideal  in  an  historic  person- 
ality. This  was  the  significance  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. Jesus  Christ  was  declared  to  be  the  Son  of 
God  with  power,  according  to  the  spirit  of  holi- 
ness, by  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  In  Jesus 
the  world  had  a  perfect  standard  of  goodness. 
More  could  be  learned  of  goodness,  by  consider- 
ing His  character  and  conduct,  than  from  cen- 
turies of  ethical  speculation. 

But  the  resurrection  did  not  reveal  the  moral 
ideal  in  detachment,  having  a  mere  preceptive 
value.  If  this  were  all,  so  far  from  relieving  the 
tension,  it  would  increase  it  to  the  breaking  point. 
If  the  relation  of  Jesus,  the  perfect  ideal  of  char- 
acter, was  that  of  a  model  to  an  artist,  if  it  left  the 
question  of  attainment  to  the  skill  of  the  individ- 
ual, the  burden  would  stiU  rest  on  the  human 
spirit,  and  this  was  precisely  what  the  age  could 
not  endure.  It  was  rich  in  ideals,  but  poor  in 
power;  and  it  wanted  a  dynamic,  not  in  detach- 
ment but  in  actual  contact  with  life.  It  was  not 
enough  that  Jesus  should  prove  His  power  by 
rising  from  the  dead;  the  question  still  remained: 
Could  this  power  function  in  human  experience? 
The  resurrection  was  a  glorious  fact,  but  was  it 
a  gospel  for  men?    The  religion  of  a  moral  ideal 

^Bevan:    *'Stoics  and  Skeptics/'  p.  71. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER     197 

is  a  religion  of  despair,  but  a  religion  of  a  moral 
ideal  working  in  contact  with  human  need  is  a 
religion  of  hope  and  power. 

This  question  could  not  be  answered  by  argu- 
ment ;  what  was  required  was  historic  proof.  Men 
wished  to  be  assured  not  only  that  Jesus  was  good, 
but  that  He  could  make  other  men  good.  Where 
then  was  the  historic  evidence  of  the  dynamic 
quality  of  the  resurrection?  Paul  found  it  in 
the  Christian  community.  All  over  the  empire, 
both  in  Asia  Minor  and  in  Europe,  churches  had 
grown  up  round  the  gospel  message,  and  had  at- 
tained distinction  in  life  and  character  through 
faith  in  Jesus.  This  remarkable  transformation 
was  directly  traceable  to  the  gospel.  Wherever  it 
was  beheved,  it  worked.  It  proved  its  reality 
by  its  fruits.  In  the  beginning  the  gospel  preach- 
ing dealt  little  in  argument.  The  message  was 
given  simply  and  concretely,  but  whoever  accepted 
it  experienced  a  spiritual  change.  For  instance, 
Paul  asks  the  Galatians:  "This  only  would  I 
learn  of  you :  Received  ye  the  Spirit  by  the  works 
of  the  law,  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  ?"  "^  In  Ephe- 
sians  the  Apostle  connects  the  power  of  the  gospel 
with  the  resurrection:  "You  hath  he  quickened, 
who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  in  sins.  .  .  . 
God  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  where- 

7  ;,',-.o 


198  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

with  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins, 
hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ,  and  hath 
raised  us  up  together,  and  made  us  to  sit  together 
in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus."  ^ 

The  rise  of  the  Apostolic  church  is  a  fact  that 
has  to  be  accounted  for.  Why  was  it  that  a  peo- 
ple who  formerly  lived  in  sin  and  superstition, 
had  suddenly  risen  above  their  age  and  attained 
to  morality  and  spiritual  power,  to  cleanness  of 
life  and  unselfish  zeal?  The  answer  is  found  in 
the  creative  power  of  the  gospel.  It  was  intended 
to  communicate  power  through  faith  to  the  in- 
dividual. 

To  one  familiar  with  those  times,  nothing  is 
more  impressive  than  the  account  given  of  these 
little  Christian  communities.  Corinth  was  one  of 
the  wickedest  cities  in  the  ancient  world.  It  was  a 
most  unlikely  place  for  the  realisation  of  a  spirit- 
ual experience,  and  yet  Paul  is  able  to  address 
that  community  as  a  church  or  household  of  God, 
sanctified  in  the  Lord  Jesus  and  called  to  be 
saints.  In  their  old  life  they  had  been  fornica- 
tors, thieves,  liars  and  idolaters.  "Such  were  some 
of  you,"  says  the  Apostle,  "but  now  ye  are  sanc- 
tified, now  are  ye  justified  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  spirit  of  God."  ^ 

«ii:l,  4-6. 

^I  Corinthians,  vi:9-ll. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    199 

The  presence  of  these  transformed  lives  in  the 
midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse  generation  was 
an  undeniable  fact;  and  this  is  explained  by  the 
dynamic  quality  imparted  through  faith  in  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus.  Paul  prays  that  the 
Ephesians  may  know  "what  is  the  exceeding 
greatness  of  his  power  to  us-ward  who  believe, 
according  to  the  working  of  his  mighty  power, 
which  he  wrought  in  Christ  when  he  raised  him 
from  the  dead."  This  is  a  glorious  fact :  the  power 
that  created  the  Christian  community  and  func- 
tions in  the  experience  of  the  individual  is  the  same 
power  that  raised  Jesus  from  the  dead/^ 

Paul's  age  needed  assurance  of  moral  power. 
It  craved  a  demonstration  in  human  experience 
of  a  transforming  ethical  dynamic;  and  Paul  and 
his  associates  pointed  to  the  two  outstanding  facts : 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  and  the  creation  of  the 
Christian  community.  Both  were  real  events  of 
history,  and  they  were  proof  of  the  fruitfulness 
of  the  new  religion.  The  resurrection  of  Jesus 
proved  that  behind  the  gospel  message  was  a 
dynamic  life;  the  Christian  community  proved 
the  fact  that  the  gospel  was  creative  within  the 
sphere  of  human  experience;  and  the  sujireme 
revelation  made  by  these  two  historic  facts  was 
this,   that   the   virtue-making   power,    which    for 

^^  Ephesians  i:19-20. 


200  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

centuries  had  haunted  the  minds  of  ethical  think- 
ers, had  at  last  appeared  in  the  historic  Person- 
ality of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  Mighty 
to  save. 

At  the  outset  it  appears  that  the  preacliing 
of  these  two  essential  facts — the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  and  the  creation  of  the  Christian  commu- 
nity— was  sufficient  to  stabilise  the  faith  of  the 
church.  They  were  the  most  obvious  facts  and 
strengthened  faith  in  the  dynamic  character  of  the 
gospel  in  the  face  of  a  rising  tide  of  opposition. 

But  new  problems  were  developing,  occasioned 
by  the  growth  of  the  church.  So  long  as  the 
church  was  growing  extensively  the  simple  appeal 
to  essential  and  obvious  facts  would  be  sufficient 
to  stabilise  faith  and  inspire  zeal;  but  so  soon 
as  the  church  began  to  grow  intensively  a  new  set 
of  questions  would  arise.  For  example,  people 
would  wish  to  know  something  more  in  detail 
about  the  function  of  Christian  power  in  individ- 
ual experience.  Paul  clearly  anticipates  such  a 
desire  in  the  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians.  He 
had  determined  to  know  nothing  among  them 
save  Jesus  and  Him  crucified,  not,  however,  be- 
cause he  had  no  deeper  revelation,  but  because  the 
carnal  character  of  the  Corinthian  mind  made  it 
impossible  at  their  stage  of  development  to  make 
further  disclosures.    But  Paul  does  take  up  the 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER     201 

doctrine  of  the  resurrection  in  that  letter,  and 
shows  its  relation  to  the  individual  experience. 
He  realised  that  spiritual  progress  depends  in 
part  upon  purity  of  heart  and  in  part  upon  in- 
tellectual development.  Granted  that  the  heart 
is  pure,  a  time  comes  to  every  man  when  he  is 
obhged  to  think  out  the  meaning  of  his  experience ; 
and  Christianity  must  be  able  to  meet  that  need. 
It  is  clear  that  a  disposition  to  grow  in  knowl- 
edge inspired  the  Roman  letter.  Paul  did  not  care 
that  his  converts  should  remain  undeveloped  in- 
tellectually. He  wished  them  to  become  strong 
men  in  Christ  Jesus;  he  will  not  always  feed 
them  with  milk,  but  ijisist  that  they  partake  of 
strong  meat. 

Among  the  manifold  tasks  undertaken  by  the 
Apostle,  that  of  thinking  out  the  ultimate  mean- 
ing of  Christianity  was  very  important ;  and  when 
occasion  justified  it,  he  put  his  profoundest 
thoughts  into  letters  to  various  communities.  And 
it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  that  his  thinking  was 
shaped  in  part  by  the  quest  for  safe  conduct,  which 
was  a  characteristic  feature  of  his  age. 

The  quest  for  safe  conduct  was  inspired  by  an 
imperious  need  for  adjustment  with  God.  Such 
methods  as  ritual  observances,  ethical  specula- 
tions and  legal  obedience  to  a  revealed  law  had 
failed  to  satisfy  the  conscience  of  the  time.    Men 


202  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

were  disposed  to  ask,  so  soon  as  they  became  fa- 
miliar with  the  outstanding  features  of  the  new  re- 
ligion: Can  Christianity  set  man  right  with  God? 
Is  it  the  religion  of  power,  and  if  so,  where  are 
the  evidences  of  this  fact?  And  Paul  pointed  to 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  and  the  creation  of  the 
Christian  communitj^ 

These  facts  being  obvious,  the  next  question 
would  be:  How  does  this  power  function  in  in- 
dividual experience  ?  How  does  it  deal  with  man's 
past,  present  and  future  needs  ?  How  does  Chris- 
tianity adjust  man  to  the  requirements  of  con- 
science? How  function  in  the  present  strife  with 
evil?  What  assurance  can  be  given  that  Christ 
will  bring  man  to  the  goal  of  his  hopes?  Life 
was  difficult  at  best;  Christianity  further  com- 
plicated it  because  it  invited  persecution:  assum- 
ing then  that  it  was  the  religion  of  power,  could  it 
give  peace  in  this  present  world,  and  assurance  of 
final  attainment  of  the  next  life? 

These  were  important  questions,  and  they  had 
to  be  answered;  for  on  the  understanding  of  such 
questions  would  turn  the  stability  and  power  of  in- 
dividual experience. 

Paul  answered  such  questions  as  these  by  teach- 
ing the  doctrines  of  Christianity.  To  use  again 
Mr.  Balfour's  important  classification  of  beliefs,^  ^ 

"  Op.  Cit.,  pp.  58-59. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    SOS 

we  may  think  of  Christian  doctrine  as  belonging 
either  to  a  cognitive  or  to  a  causal  series.  If  we 
think  of  it  under  a  cognitive  aspect,  our  interest 
will  chiefly  concern  itself  with  a  series  of  interde- 
pendent propositions,  and  our  aim  will  be  a  com- 
plete system  of  religious  truth.  And  this  is  not 
only  a  legitimate  but  a  necessary  duty  of  the 
church.  The  church  must  have  a  systematic  body 
of  teaching  if  it  is  to  meet  the  intellectual  re- 
quirements of  believers.  And  it  goes  without 
saying  that  Paul  was  a  theological  genius,  and 
that  he  had  a  very  clear  conception  of  the  cognitive 
aspect  of  beliefs.  But  this  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  his  immediate  concern.  WTiat  the  age  needed 
was  not  so  much  a  systematic  theology,  as  an 
explanation  of  the  life  and  experience  created 
by  the  gospel.  And  while  he  did  not  overlook 
the  cognitive  aspect  of  belief,  his  immediate  con- 
cern was  with  its  causal  aspect. 

I  propose  in  the  next  two  lectures  to  view  cer- 
tain characteristic  doctrines  under  a  causal  rather 
than  a  cognitive  aspect.  Doctrines  are  undoubt- 
edly revelations  of  essential  and  objective  truth; 
but  they  are  something  more  than  this.  Doctrines 
are  descriptions  of  function.  The  function  of  a 
power  is  its  characteristic  mode  of  operation.  The 
Christian  life  is  divinely  originated,  but  its  growth 
depends   in  part  upon  the  cooperation   of  man 


204  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

with  God;  and  our  ability  to  work  intelligently 
with  God  is  conditioned  by  our  knowledge  of  the 
functions  of  the  power  of  God.  The  more  we  know 
of  the  habits  and  characteristic  modes  of  that  tre- 
mendous spiritual  dynamic  working  in  the  indi- 
vidual experience,  the  greater  is  the  benefit  to  be 
derived  from  its  activities. 

The  characteristic  emphasis  placed  on  Chris- 
tianity at  the  time  when  the  intellectual  develop- 
ment  of  the  church  made  doctrinal  teaching  neces- 
sary was  that  it  was  "the  power  of  God  unto  sal- 
vation." It  was  essentially  dynamic  and  creative. 
Behind  the  Christian  community  was  the  experi- 
ence of  the  individual;  and  the  pressing  question 
was :  What  is  the  function  of  the  spiritual  dynamic 
in  individual  life  ?  Paul's  answer  was  by  teaching 
doctrines;  doctrines  are  descriptions  of  function; 
they  interpret  the  causal  aspect  of  Christianity. 

The  strength  of  the  believer  is  determined  by 
the  degree  in  which  he  understands  the  power 
working  in  his  experience.  Knowledge  of  func- 
tion puts  behind  the  sentiments  and  impulses  of 
religion  a  body  of  unchangeable  conviction.  By 
thinking  out  the  ultimate  meaning  of  experience 
in  the  light  of  its  functional  implications,  the 
believer  comes  to  know  the  power  of  God  in  his 
thought  and  life. 

This,  in  my  judgment,  is  the  right  way  to  teach 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  RELIGION  OF  POWER    205 

religious  doctrines.  Few  individuals  realise  a  need 
for  systematic  statements  of  belief;  but  they  are 
anxious  to  understand  the  functional  significance 
of  religious  teaching  in  relation  to  the  evolution 
of  a  strong  and  stable  faith;  and  this  was  Paul's 
method  of  approach  to  the  intellectual  require- 
ments of  an  age,  which  in  many  features  of  its 
life  and  thought  so  strikingly  resembles  our  own. 


LECTURE  VII 

CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER 


LECTURE  VII 

CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER 

The  quest  for  safe  conduct  that  distinguished  the 
centuries  immediately  preceding  the  Christian  era 
was  inspired  by  the  desire  to  be  in  right  relation 
with  God.  Underlying  the  quest  were  three  dif- 
ferent ideals  of  life.  According  to  the  Greek, 
the  ideal  of  life  was  completeness.  Religion  was 
important,  but  there  were  other  things,  such  as 
philosophy,  culture  and  worldly  position,  equally 
important.  The  chief  good  was  a  composite  of 
material  and  spiritual  advantages,  realised  in  an 
ideal  political  environment.  According  to  the 
Roman,  the  good  man  was  the  ideal  citizen,  the  in- 
telligent servant  of  the  state.  According  to  the 
Jew,  the  good  man  was  the  just  man,  who  lived 
in  harmony  with  the  law  of  Moses. 

These  ideals  of  life  were  modified  by  the  course 
of  events.  The  sifting  processes  of  history  brought 
them  to  the  same  level,  for  with  the  collapse  of 
the  city-state  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  became 
a  task  for  the  individual.  In  the  period  following 
Alexander's  conquests  man's  religious  needs  were 

209 


SIO  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

separated  from  his  political  relationships ;  and  the 
outcome  of  the  quest,  whether  manifested  in  a 
ritual,  ethical,  or  legal  form,  was  to  intensify  the 
need  for  a  moral  dynamic.  In  spite  of  racial 
differences  the  ruling  passion  of  Paul's  age  was 
for  moral  direction,  and  the  great  Aj^ostle  met  this 
demand  with  the  conception  of  Christianity  as 
the  religion  of  power.  The  power  of  the  new 
religion  was  manifest  in  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
and  the  creation  of  the  Christian  communit}^  On 
the  one  hand  the  moral  ideal  had  appeared  in  a 
Life,  and  on  the  other  hand  the  gospel  was  effec- 
tive in  transforming  character.  The  virtue-mak- 
ing power  which  the  age  wanted  was  operating 
in  the  domain  of  history.  It  was  no  longer  an 
ideal  or  a  theory,  but  a  cause,  manifest  in  a  series 
of  events. 

Naturally  the  question  would  arise :  How  is  this 
power  communicated  to  the  individual?  At  the 
outset  the  question  was  not  acute,  since  most  peo- 
ple were  content  with  a  simple  and  uncritical 
faith.  The  pardoning  love  of  Christ  was  suffi- 
cient to  set  man  right  with  God;  it  was  enough 
that  he  could  appeal  to  the  fact  of  his  experi- 
ence— his  changed  life — to  prove  the  power  of  the 
new  religion. 

But  the  question  would  become  urgent  so  soon 
as  experience  required  interpretation.    The  proc- 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    211 

lamation  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  did  undoubtedly 
give  peace  to  the  believer,  but  it  did  not  effectively 
change  his  feelings  about  the  past.  The  charac- 
teristic feeling  of  the  age  was  that  salvation  had 
to  be  earned.  It  was  the  product  of  human  effort. 
For  centuries  the  race  had  been  working  at  the 
problem,  and  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  had  been 
a  long,  laborious  and,  in  the  end,  a  discouraging 
struggle  to  be  in  right  relation  with  God.  The 
feeling  that  salvation  had  to  be  earned  was  as 
common  among  gentiles  as  among  Jews,  and  the 
struggle  had  left  its  mark  on  the  race.  It  was  a 
most  difficult  thing  indeed  to  attain  peace  with 
God ;  so  acute  was  the  feeling  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Christian  era  that  it  tended  to  obscure  the 
originality  of  the  new  religion. 

The  first  converts  to  Christianity  were  Jews 
or  proselytes;  and  although  they  came  into  the 
new  relation  with  God  by  means  of  faith  and  re- 
pentance, still  their  confidence  in  the  new  religion 
was  reinforced  by  a  prior  relation  to  Judaism.  It 
was  generally  felt  that  the  only  way  to  Christ 
lay  through  the  law  of  Moses. 

But  when  gentiles  began  to  press  into  the  king- 
dom, particularly  when  the  remarkable  growth  of 
the  church  in  Antioch  of  Syria  finally  convinced 
men  of  the  originality  of  the  new  religion,  the 
troublesome  question  concerning  terms  of  admis- 


212  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

sion  for  gentiles  became  very  acute.  Were  they 
to  be  admitted  on  the  simple  terms  of  faith  and 
repentance,  or  must  they  first  become  disciples  of 
Moses? 

The  matter  was  allowed  to  remain  unsettled, 
until  a  serious  defection  among  the  Galatian 
churches  made  its  adjustment  an  imperative  neces- 
sity. The  council  of  Jerusalem  officially  decreed 
that  gentiles  were  to  be  admitted  on  the  simple 
terms  of  faith  and  repentance.  But  Jewish  Chris- 
tians of  the  stricter  sort  did  not  accept  this  de- 
cision as  final,  not  only  because  they  thought  it 
unfair  to  the  old  religion,  but  also  because  they 
could  not  rid  themselves  of  the  inherited  feeling 
that  man  must  do  something  to  save  himself;  and 
the  further  fact  that  this  notion  impressed  the 
Galatians  shows  how  deeply  rooted  the  feeling 
was  in  the  gentile  mind.  It  seemed  unreasonable 
and  impossible  to  accept  the  blessings  of  Chris- 
tianity on  terms  so  simple. 

The  age  was  prepared  to  admit  the  inadequacy 
of  the  old  methods  of  salvation;  its  present  un- 
rest was  evidence  of  that,  but  it  was  still  disposed 
to  insist  that  a  man  must  do  something  to  save 
himself.  Christianity  had  proclaimed  peace  with 
God  through  the  forgiveness  of  sins;  this  was  ac- 
cepted provisionally,  but  it  could  not  rid  man  of 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    213 

the  feeling  that  so  simple  a  programme  should  be 
supplemented  by  something  else. 

The  feeling  that  the  Christian  programme  was 
inadequate  exposed  believers  to  the  syncretic  ten- 
dency of  the  times.  The  age  was  sceptical  of 
simple  things,  and  in  love  with  complexity.  The 
more  popular  religions  were  composite;  they  had 
been  improved  by  the  addition  of  desirable  ele- 
ments taken  from  other  cults:  why  then  should 
Christianity  prove  an  exception  ?  Greek,  Oriental 
and  Jewish  influences  sought  admission  into  the 
Christian  consciousness.  They  were  all  the  more 
dangerous  because  they  were  vague  and  inchoate, 
and  in  the  main  friendly.  They  did  not  seek  to 
displace  the  new  faith;  they  simply  asked  that 
they  be  added  to  it  for  the  sake  of  a  better  Chris- 
tianity. They  sought  to  beguile  the  believer  from 
the  simplicity  that  was  in  Clirist. 

Paul  anticipates  such  questions  as  these  in  his 
various  letters.  With  the  Corintliians  he  insists 
that  Christianity  is  not  a  philosophy  but  the  re- 
ligion of  power.  With  the  Colossians  he  main- 
tains the  great  truth  that  Christ  is  the  fulness 
of  God,  and  that  Christians  are  complete  in  Him. 
Christianity  was  sufficient  for  all  human  needs, 
and  was  not  obliged  to  seek  assistance  from  out- 
side sources. 

In  spite  of  this,  the  feeling  that  man  must  do 


214.  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

something  to  save  himself  made  it  difficult  to 
accept  a  religion  of  grace.  Men  would  reason: 
How  can  so  great  an  issue  as  the  soul's  salvation 
stand  upon  faith  and  repentance?  Salvation  had 
come  by  the  hearing  of  the  gospel;  faith  had  com- 
municated pardoning  love  and  peace  with  God; 
moreover  it  had  imparted  a  dynamic  character 
to  experience,  but  the  old  inherited  feeling  would 
not  down :  Can  any  religion  save  without  strenu- 
ous human  effort  ? 

This  question,  so  characteristic  of  the  times, 
made  a  further  interpretation  of  Christianity  an 
immediate  necessity.  It  did  not  in  the  beginning 
call  for  a  systematic  statement  of  Christian  truth, 
but  it  did  require  an  explanation  of  the  func- 
tional significance  of  the  Christian  dynamic  in  hu- 
man experience. 

A  function  is  a  mode  of  action  through  which 
a  power  fulfils  its  purpose.  The  demand  for 
further  light  on  Christian  experience  was  legiti- 
mate and  Paul  met  it  by  teaching  doctrines.  Doc- 
trines are  descriptions  of  function;  they  explain 
how  Christian  power  operates  in  individual  ex- 
perience. 

In  the  Roman  letter  Paul  declares  that  the 
gospel  of  Christ  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salva- 
tion, because  therein  is  revealed  a  righteousness  of 


CHRISTIAXITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYIXG  POWEH    215 

Go<L'  Righteousness  is  a  veiy  important  word 
and  is  used  in  two  senses:  as  a  description  either 
of  the  character  of  God,  or  of  a  status  given  to 
man  by  God.  In  the  first  sense  it  belongs  to  a 
cognitive  series;  in  the  second  sense  to  a  causal 
series. 

The  gospel  is  power  because  it  reveals  a  status 
which  God  gives  to  man  through  the  redemptive 
work  of  Christ.  Righteousness  does  not  refer  to 
man's  conduct  in  this  sense,  but  to  his  position  in 
the  sight  of  the  ]Most  High  God.  It  is  a  graciously 
bestowed  privilege  whereby  man  is  enabled  to  hold 
himself  free  from  the  claims  of  his  past.  This 
function  of  gospel  power  is  called  justification. 

Justification  is  God's  righting  act.  His  adjust- 
ing power.  It  is  the  divine  way  of  settling  once 
and  for  all  the  question  raised  by  the  quest  for 
safe  conduct.  That  quest  was  for  a  rigtt  rela- 
tion with  God,  and  the  gospel  bestows  this  relation 
through  justifying  faith.  The  gospel  reveals  the 
fact  that  God  has  given  man  a  status  before  Him 
which  past  experience  cannot  invalidate.  Behind 
pardoning  love  is  justifying  grace.  Justification 
is  the  function  of  the  Christian  dynamic  which 
deals  chiefly  with  man's  past.  Prof.  William 
James  has  reminded  us  that  there  are  three  kinds 
of  functions:  productive,  releasing,  and  transmis- 


216  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

sive.^  We  may  apply  these  differences  to  the 
conception  of  justification.  Justification  is  the 
productive  function  of  the  atoning  work  of  Christ, 
by  which  we  mean  that  the  status  given  the  sinner 
before  God  is  caused  by  the  atonement.  Faith 
is  the  releasing  function  of  justification,  by  which 
we  mean  that  faith  releases  the  power  of  justi- 
fication in  individual  experience.  Peace  is  the 
transmissive  function  of  faith,  by  which  we  mean 
that  peace  with  God  is  communicated  through 
faith  in  the  righting  power  of  God. 

The  conception  of  justification  is  here  viewed, 
not  as  one  of  a  series  of  interdependent  proposi- 
tions, but  as  a  link  in  a  chain  of  redemptive  causes. 
This  beyond  question  was  Paul's  method  of  ap- 
proach to  the  problems  raised  by  the  growing  ex- 
perience of  the  church.  The  believer  wished  to 
know  the  implications  of  experience,  chiefly,  how 
did  the  Christian  dynamic  function  in  relation  to 
the  past?  Could  it  suspend  the  inherited  feeling 
that  man  must  do  something  to  save  himself  ?  Had 
the  believer  set  out  on  a  new  quest,  or  had  he 
arrived  at  the  goal  of  his  hopes  ?  Pardoning  love 
had  undoubtedly  given  a  kind  of  peace,  but  was  it 
real  or  fictitious?  Was  it  based  on  fiat  or  historic 
performance?  If  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  proved 
the  dynamic  character  of  the  new  religion,  what 

^  "Human  Immortality,"  pp.   13-14. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    217 

was  its  specific  evidence  of  justifying  power? 
Paul's  answer  to  this  important  question  was  that 
behind  the  pardoning  love  of  Christ  which  the 
gospel  proclaimed  stood  the  justifying  grace  of 
God,  and  behind  justifying  grace  stood  the  great 
historic  act  of  the  atonement. 

A  clear  conception  of  what  is  meant  by  the 
atonement  of  Christ  is  necessary  if  we  are  to  un- 
derstand what  is  meant  by  justification.  Now 
there  are  theories  and  theories.  Some  theories 
exist  for  the  sake  of  philosophic  system ;  and  other 
theories  because  they  are  needed  to  understand 
the  function  of  power.  A  theory  of  the  atonement 
necessary  to  comprehend  justification  is  of  this 
latter  kind.  Just  as  a  theory  of  electricity  is  re- 
quired to  understand  the  functional  habits  of  elec- 
tricity, so  is  a  theory  of  the  atoning  work  of 
Christ  required  for  a  knowledge  of  its  functional 
significance.  Justification  is  the  function  of 
Christ's  sacrificial  death  which  has  to  do  with  one 
of  the  vital  problems  of  human  history;  how  can 
a  man  attain  right  status  before  God?  Justifica- 
tion is  God's  righting  act  and  is  squarely  based 
on  the  historic  death  of  the  Saviour;  a  theory  of 
the  atonement  is  therefore  a  prime  necessity,  if 
we  are  to  comprehend  justification. 

There  are  but  two  logical  views  of  the  atone- 
ment :  one  is  known  as  the  moral  influence  theory, 


218  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

the  other  as  the  theory  of  vicarious  substitution. 

The  moral  influence  theory  originated  in  the 
fertile  brain  of  Abelard  in  the  twelfth  century; 
and  although  it  has  been  changed  from  time  to 
time  to  suit  the  popular  mood,  it  is  substantially 
the  same  now  as  then.  "It  views  the  death  of 
Christ  rather  under  the  category  of  revelation 
than  of  atonement,  as  part  of  His  prophetical 
rather  than  His  priestly  office.  It  is  the  great 
manifestation  of  the  divine  love,  the  pledge  to 
men  of  God's  eternal  readiness  to  forgive  the  re- 
turning sinner.  The  divine  justice  needs  no  other 
satisfaction  than  the  repentance  and  reformation 
of  the  sinner."  ^ 

There  is  some  truth  in  this  view.  The  preaching 
of  God's  love  has  a  powerful  influence  on  sinful 
natures,  and  is  calculated  to  arouse  feelings  of  re- 
gret and  penitence.  The  simple  story  of  the  cross 
has  mightily  moved  the  ages ;  and  if  human  nature 
raised  no  deeper  questions,  that  is  if  man  could 
hold  his  religion  apart  from  his  thoughts,  and  view 
his  past  and  present  performances  apart  from  the 
criticism  of  conscience,  it  is  possible  he  might  con- 
tent himself  with  such  a  view. 

But  the  experience  of  the  Apostolic  church 
shows  that  a  man  cannot  be  content  with  an  unin- 
terpreted faith.     We  are  obliged  to  reckon  with 

3  Stearns:     *Tresent  Day  Theology,"  p.  388. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    219 

a  growing  intelligence.  We  have  already  noticed 
how  the  moral  sense  will  turn  round  upon  inherited 
traditions  and  make  demands  which  they  are  not 
always  prepared  to  grant;  and  the  need  which 
led  to  the  formulation  of  a  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment in  the  Apostolic  church  was  aroused  by  the 
gospel  offer.  The  gospel  offered  peace  with  God 
on  terms  of  faith  and  repentance;  in  fact  at  the 
outset  it  resembled  in  many  ways  a  moral  influ- 
ence. But  so  soon  as  the  new  experience  came 
under  the  scrutiny  of  a  growing  intelligence,  the 
question  was  at  once  asked:  Is  this  proclamation 
of  peace  and  pardon  a  reality,  or  a  fiction?  Is  it 
preceptive  only,  or  dynamic? 

Growing  Christians  were  compelled  to  ask  the 
meaning  of  Christ's  death,  and  it  is  an  interesting 
thing  to  observe  that  a  moral  influence  theory  of 
the  atonement  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to 
them.  It  was  impossible  for  those  who  had  been 
seeking  salvation  by  the  various  strenuous  ways 
revealed  in  the  quest  for  safe  conduct,  and  who 
had  so  keenly  felt  the  need  of  a  moral  dynamic,  to 
base  their  faith  in  adjustment  with  God  on  an 
influence,  however  beautiful  or  appealing. 

Influence  is  not  power.  An  influence  may  sug- 
gest an  ideal  or  indicate  ways  and  means,  but  it 
cannot  create.  Let  us  admit  that  the  gospel  did 
assure  the  sinner  of  God's  pardon,  if  he  would  re- 


220  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

turn,  the  main  question  is  still  unanswered :  How 
are  you  going  to  get  him  to  return?  Where  was 
the  power  that  could  move  liim  towards  the  divine 
ideal?  The  old  struggles  for  peace  had  convinced 
man  of  his  moral  immobility.  He  had  ideals  and 
theories  abundant,  but  was  deficient  in  power,  and 
what  is  more  important,  he  knew  it.  *'To  will  is 
present  with  me,  but  how  to  perform  that  which 
is  good,  I  find  not.  .  .  .  O  wretched  man  that  I 
am!  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  dead  body?" 
Such  thoughts  are  not  confined  to  Scripture;  they 
may  be  found  in  other  forms  in  the  writings  of 
Lucretius,  Cicero,  Virgil,  Seneca  or  Marcus  Au- 
relius.  Is  it  conceivable  that  men  who  acutely 
felt  the  need  of  a  virtue-making  power,  and  who 
passionately  craved  the  advent  of  a  strong  Per- 
sonality to  adjust  the  age  to  its  spiritual  rela- 
tionships, could  have  been  content  with  a  theory 
of  that  adjustment,  which  while  it  presented  an 
ideal  of  such  purity  as  to  strike  terror  into  sensi- 
tive minds,  still  resolved  its  sa\ang  power  into  a 
vague  and  sentimental  influence? 

It  is  a  safe  thing  to  say  that  Paul's  age  would 
not  have  been  interested  in  a  moral  influence  the- 
ory of  the  atonement,  first  because  it  could  throw 
no  light  whatever  on  its  present  experience,  and 
secondly  because  it  had  no  doctrine  of  justification 
by  faith.    What  the  thoughtful  man  wanted  was 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER     m 

not  assurance  of  God's  love:  he  had  that;  but  he 
wished  to  go  behind  the  love  and  understand  its 
sanctions  and  historic  roots.  He  wanted  to  know 
what  position  the  love  of  Christ  gave  him  in  the 
face  of  the  holiness  of  God  ?  What  w^as  his  status 
before  the  Great  White  Throne?  A  theory  which 
invited  him  to  be  content  with  surface  impressions 
largely  emotional  in  character  could  have  no  mean- 
ing for  him.  The  view  cannot  function  in  expe- 
rience at  its  deepest  level,  because  it  has  no  justi- 
fying power.  It  interests  but  does  not  grip.  It 
stirs  sentiments  but  fails  to  move  the  conscience. 
The  moral  influence  theory  of  the  atonement  is 
popular  because  it  allows  considerable  room  for 
pride,  and  does  not  offend  man's  natural  impulses. 
Superficially  it  attracts,  but  when  it  confronts  the 
realism  of  deep  experience  it  loses  all  meaning, 
because  it  appeals  to  the  aesthetic  rather  than  to 
the  moral  nature.  It  presents  Jesus  in  a  very 
amiable  light,  but  "had  Jesus  been  such  an  amiable 
preacher  of  human  world-wisdom,"  says  Paulsen, 
"His  contemporaries  would  most  likely  not  have 
considered  it  necessary  to  nail  Him  to  a  cross ;  the 
amiable,  proper  and  charming  people  who  live  and 
let  live,  who  understand  the  art  of  combining  re- 
ligion with  culture,  who  incline  towards  easy-going 
congeniality,  and  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  social 
cup,  have  never  been  regarded  as  dangerous  and 


222  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

nailed  to  crosses.  If  the  Christianity  of  early- 
times  had  been  what  the  interpreters  of  later  ages 
have  now  and  then  made  it,  the  deadly  enmity 
which  it  aroused  in  the  world  would  be  absolutely 
inconceivable."  * 

The  theory  is  popular  because  it  has  no  sting 
in  it.  It  repeats  the  Socratic  error  that  knowl- 
edge is  power,  that  sin  is  a  mistake,  and  that 
no  man  "errs  of  his  own  free  will."  But  Paul's 
age  knew  better.  It  was  acutely  aware  of  per- 
versity: "I  see  the  good  and  approve  it,"  said 
Ovid,  "but  deliberately  do  the  wrong."  Men  could 
not  believe  in  a  love,  however  good,  unless  it  was 
based  on  historic  performances ;  they  could  not  ac- 
cept peace  with  God  on  a  declaration  of  forgive- 
ness, because  they  felt  the  force  of  the  inherited 
tendency  to  do  something,  and  were  willing  to  re- 
ceive salvation  by  faith  alone,  only  when  assured 
that  behind  pardoning  love  was  justifying  grace, 
and  behind  justifying  grace  was  the  great  historic 
deed  of  the  atonement. 

And  there  is  nothing  amiable  about  the  New 
Testament  doctrine  of  the  atonement.  It  frankly 
sets  forth  the  death  of  Christ  as  the  only  possible 
way  of  reconciliation  with  God.  It  leaves  no 
room  for  pride,  has  little  patience  with  half-and- 
half  measures,  and  revamps  no  lost  illusions.    It 

*  "Ethics,"  p.  96. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    223 

was  a  reproach  in  Apostolic  times  and  it  is  a  re- 
proach now;  but  what  does  this  matter  if  it  be 
true?  What  did  it  matter  to  men  of  Paul's  age 
what  view  the  gospel  took  of  human  nature,  if 
it  gave  an  undisputed  status  before  God?  This 
tremendous  doctrine  put  the  Jew  and  gentile  on 
the  same  level.  All  had  sinned  and  come  short  of 
the  glory  of  God,  but  nevertheless  the  gospel 
opened  the  way  for  a  real  communion  with  the  liv- 
ing God.  It  was  the  "new  and  living  way"  to  the 
throne  of  the  heavenly  grace. 

The  New  Testament  doctrine  of  the  atonement 
is  set  forth  in  these  words:  "All  have  sinned  and 
come  short  of  the  glory  of  God,  being  justified 
freely  by  his  grace  through  redemption  that  is  in 
Christ  Jesus,  whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  be  a 
propitiation  through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare 
his  righteousness  for  the  remission  of  sins  that  are 
past."  ^  "It  is  impossible,"  says  Sanday,  "to  get 
rid  from  this  passage  of  the  double  idea  of  sacri- 
fice, and  of  a  sacrifice  which  is  propitiatory.  .  .  . 
And  further,  when  we  ask,  who  is  propitiated? 
the  answer  can  only  be  God.  Nor  is  it  possible  to 
separate  this  propitiation  from  the  death  of  the 
Son." ' 


"  Romans  iii  :2S-25. 

®  Quoted   by    Stevens:      "New    Testament   Theology/'    p. 


^M  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  truth  is,  according  to  New  Testament 
teaching,  let  it  be  plainly  and  frankly  said,  that 
Christ  took  the  place  of  the  sinner  on  the  cross, 
died  in  his  stead,  and  His  death  resulted  in  a 
j)ropitiation  of  God.  Without  a  real  propitia- 
tion there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  justification. 
"It  plainly  lies  with  the  Deity,"  says  Mr.  West- 
cott,  "to  dictate  the  terms  and  conditions  on  which 
He  will  admit  man  within  His  covenant."  '^ 

The  death  of  Christ  is  conceived  as  a  propitia- 
tion of  God;  as  having  an  effect  upon  the  Divine 
relation  to  man.  How  shall  this  change  be  un- 
derstood? Obviously  most  of  the  difficulties  with 
this  doctrine  come  from  a  loose  definition  of  the 
idea  of  reconciliation.  There  are  ways  of  illus- 
trating the  doctrine  as  inconsistent  with  the  moral 
sense  as  they  are  with  Scripture.  But  I  think  we 
can  speak  of  it  in  a  simple  way,  without  doing 
violence  to  anything  essential.  Plainly  there  is  a 
deep  mystery  in  the  atoning  work  of  Christ ;  how 
the  reconciling  work  was  ultimately  accomplished 
we  cannot  say,  since  it  belongs  to  the  mystery  of 
the  Divine  nature ;  but  the  New  Testament  makes 
some  things  clear. 

The  word  "reconciliation"  is  used  in  two  senses 
in  Scripture:  either  as  a  change  of  nature,  or  as 
a  change  of  relation.     The  atonement  of  Christ 

^  "St.  Paul  and  Justification,"  p.  38. 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    225 

did  not  change  God's  nature,  but  it  did  change 
His  relation  to  man  as  a  sinner. 

The  atonement  did  not  change  God's  attitude 
towards  man.  God  does  not  love  us  because  Christ 
died  for  us;  but  Christ  died  for  us  because  God 
loved  us.  The  atonement  is  the  perfect  revelation 
of  divine  love:  "God  commendeth  his  love  toward 
us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners  Christ  died 
for  us." « 

The  atonement  did  not  change  God's  attitude 
towards  sin.  If  the  law  of  Moses  condemned  sin, 
the  death  of  Christ  so  far  from  setting  it  aside, 
rather  increased  the  divine  condemnation*  It  was 
the  perfection  of  condemnation:  *'God  sending 
His  own  Son  in  the  hkeness  of  sinful  flesh,  and 
for  sin,  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh."  ^ 

But  the  atonement  did  change  God's  relation 
to  the  sinner.  It  enabled  Him  to  be  just,  and 
yet  to  become  the  justifier  of  the  unjust.  "For  he 
hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin ; 
that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God 
in  him."  ^^  As  such  the  atonement  is  God's  con- 
sistent method  of  removing  the  barrier  between 
man  and  Himself;  consistent  at  once  with  God's 

®  Romans  v:8. 

®  Romans  viii:3. 

"II  Corinthians  v:21. 


2S6  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

holy  nature,  and  man's  fundamental  moral  neces- 
sities. 

But  the  significance  of  the  atonement  is  not 
limited  to  a  proclamation  of  Divine  love;  its  spe- 
cific object  is  to  provide  for  justification.  Grace 
provides  a  righting  power;  it  puts  behind  the 
offer  of  pardoning  love  an  assured  status  before 
God.  From  this  point  of  view  justification  is  the 
productive  function  of  the  atonement ;  it  describes 
the  legitimate  operation  of  atoning  power  within 
the  sphere  of  human  experience.  Pardon  is  not 
suspended  in  an  ineffective  region  of  sentiment, 
but  rooted  and  grounded  in  an  historic  deed. 
Justification  is  God's  righting  act,  the  final  ad- 
justment of  the  human  spirit  to  the  demands  of 
its  eternal  relationships;  it  is  God's  act  of  recon- 
ciliation, effective  unto  the  saving  of  souls  because 
it  derives  its  power  from  the  atoning  work  of 
His  Son. 

But  how  is  assurance  of  status  to  be  gained? 
How  is  the  righting  power  of  God  communicated 
to  man?  Paul's  answer  is  by  faith.  Faith  is  the 
releasing  function  of  justification.  But  some  one 
may  say:  Grant  the  truth  of  your  theory,  is  it 
necessary  for  a  believer  to  have  a  theory  of  the 
atonement,  in  order  to  have  peace  with  God? 
May  he  not  be  content  with  a  simple  and  un- 
critical faith  in  Jesus  Christ?    The  answer  is  yes 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    227 

and  no.  It  is  perfectly  true  that  many  do  get 
along  without  theories  of  religious  truth;  their 
faith  appears  to  require  little  or  no  theology ;  still 
this  does  not  indicate  the  superiority  of  this  type 
of  Christian.  A  faith  without  doctrines  is  a  col- 
ourless faith,  and  may  at  any  time  become  unsta- 
ble. Even  if  it  be  capable  of  sustaining  itself  in 
the  face  of  opposition,  it  has  no  power  for  propa- 
gating itself,  simply  because  it  has  no  ideas. 
Ideas  are  the  hooks  of  faith  which  stick  into  other 
minds  and  take  hold  there  often  in  spite  of  op- 
position. If  one  is  willing  to  remain  a  babe 
in  Christ,  and  depend  on  a  favourable  environ- 
ment for  successful  resistance  of  the  friction  of 
this  worlds  he  may  get  along  without  theoretical 
explanations  of  religion.  But  it  ought  to  be  said 
that  objections  to  religious  doctrine  often  rise 
from  mental  indolence  or  from  a  superficial  ex- 
perience. And  if  one  is  to  be  a  mature  Christian, 
sustaining  himself  in  the  face  of  opposition,  and 
propagating  his  faith  in  his  own  generation,  he 
must  tliink  out  the  functional  implications  of  his 
experience;  he  must  go  down  to  the  roots  and 
grapple  with  religion's  inspiring  problems,  and 
the  reason  for  this  is  a  very  practical  one. 

Any  scheme  of  religion  a  thoughtful  man  ac- 
cepts must  reckon  with  the  conscience.  Now  the 
conscience  knows  nothing  of  mercy,  and  makes 


228  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

short  work  of  proclamations  based  on  pardon 
alone.  When  conscience  sleeps  it  is  content  with 
a  moral  influence,  but  when  conscience  awakes 
it  will  demand  a  dynamic  atoning  deed.  To  for- 
give a  sin  does  not  remove  its  wrongfulness.  The 
question  of  right  or  wrong  is  in  charge  of  the  con- 
science. Now  the  target  of  pardoning  love  is  the 
heart,  the  emotional  nature;  but  the  target  of 
justification  is  the  conscience,  the  moral  nature. 

Paul's  age  demanded  a  religion  that  could  deal 
with  conscience.  It  would  listen  to  preaching 
that  began  with  pardoning  love,  but  it  would 
permanently  yield  to  a  religion  only  when  it  could 
satisfy  the  imphcations  of  the  moral  nature.  A 
conviction  of  sin  is  necessary  to  an  adequate  com- 
prehension of  Divine  love;  and  it  was  a  convic- 
tion of  the  sinfulness  of  sin  that  made  Paul's  age 
go  behind  pardoning  love  to  the  deed  of  justifica- 
tion. The  gentile  felt  the  need  of  deliverance 
from  the  power  of  evil.  The  feeling  could  not 
suggest  a  remedy,  but  it  was  powerful  enough  to 
inspire  a  desire  for  a  deliverer,  a  Saviour.  In 
the  meantime,  however,  it  left  man  without  ex- 
cuse. It  filled  him  with  fear  and  dread  and  unrest. 
He  saw  punishments  in  his  calamities  and  dreaded 
what  might  happen  after  death.  The  age  was 
conscious  of  the  need  of  a  tremendous  righting 
power  which  could  adjust  it  to  its  eternal  rela- 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    229 

tionships.  And  if  this  feeling  of  need  was  com- 
mon to  gentiles  it  was  equally  so  with  the  Jew. 
For  the  Jew  had  the  law  of  God,  and  in  spite  of 
his  professed  security,  he  was  keenly  aware  of  the 
inadequacy  of  his  way  of  life.  Paul  tells  us  how 
he  felt  about  it  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  Romans. 
The  law  had  revealed  the  sinfulness  of  sin  both  in 
its  positive  and  negative  aspects.  "All  had  sinned 
and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God."  And  if  a 
Jew  felt  thus  before  his  law  how  much  more 
keenly  would  he  feel  it  in  the  presence  of  the 
White  Purity  which  had  come  into  the  world  and 
condemned  the  ideal  religious  figure  of  the  age  in 
the  words:  "Except  your  righteousness  shall  ex- 
ceed the  righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  ^^  The  law  confronted  man  with  a 
debt  he  could  not  pay,  it  threatened  him  with  a 
penalty  he  could  not  bear,  and  set  him  a  task 
he  could  not  essay.  No  assurance  of  Divine  for- 
giveness could  rid  him  of  the  feeling  that  he  must 
do  something  to  save  himself,  except  on  the  as- 
sumption that  behind  that  assurance  was  an  his- 
toric righting  power.  The  age  was  sick  of  precep- 
tive moralities,  and  wanted  power,  and  the  only 
thing  that  could  square  it  with  conscience  was  a 
real  justification,  grounded  on  historic  perform- 

"  Matthew  v  :20. 


230  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ance.     It  ought  to  be  easy  to  comprehend  this. 

But  it  may  be  asked:  Can  a  man  have  peace 
with  God  upon  the  assurance  of  pardoning  love 
alone?  The  answer  is  provisionally  yes,  perma- 
nently no.  Suppose  you  borrow  money  from  a 
man  and  he  deposits  your  note  in  a  bank  for  col- 
lection. The  note  falls  due  and  you  cannot  pay 
it,  so  you  go  to  the  creditor  and  confess  the  debt, 
admit  that  in  spite  of  honest  efforts  you  are  un- 
able to  meet  it,  and  throw  yourself  on  his  mercy. 
He  forgives  the  debt  and  assures  you  of  his  friend- 
ship. Undoubtedly  this  relieves  your  mind  for 
the  time  being,  but  how  about  the  bank?  Your 
plea  will  not  be  valid  there  so  long  as  it  holds  your 
note.  The  mere  fact  of  the  pardon  of  the  debt 
will  not  prevent  a  renewal  of  uneasiness,  so  you 
return  to  the  friendly  creditor,  and  he  goes  with 
you  to  the  bank,  takes  up  the  note  and  destroys 
it  in  your  presence.  Your  status  with  the  bank  is 
at  once  altered.  Your  peace  is  secured  because 
the  visible  obligation  has  been  destroyed.  You 
are  forever  free  from  the  debt.  Why?  Because 
the  destruction  of  the  note  was  a  deed,  while  the 
pardon  of  the  debt  was  a  word  only.  The  word 
of  pardon  was  not  effective  until  the  obligation 
had  been  cancelled. 

Now  the  conscience  is  a  bank,  and  it  holds  man's 
notes  for  past  transgressions.     These  notes  are 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    231 

sins.  They  are  debts  contracted  in  the  past,  but 
they  hold  over  man's  head  the  obhgation  to  reckon 
with  them  in  the  future.  Mere  pardon  will  not 
finally  bestow  peace  of  mind.  What  man  needs 
is  the  destruction  of  the  obhgation.  He  wants  a 
power  to  go  with  him  before  the  conscience,  and 
make  an  end  of  the  whole  sad  business.  It  was 
the  function  of  the  Mosaic  law  to  establish  the  fact 
of  debt,  it  is  the  business  of  the  conscience  to 
enforce  its  collection,  but  it  is  the  function  of 
justifying  grace  to  cancel  all  obligations  and  give 
the  debtor  a  status  before  God  which  the  con- 
science cannot  dispute.  Justification  not  only  re- 
moves the  barrier  between  man  and  God,  but  also 
between  man  and  his  conscience.  Bunyan  in  the 
allegory  of  the  Holy  War  has  beautifully  illus- 
trated this  truth,  when  Emmanuel  on  the  recon- 
quest  of  Mansoul  deprives  conscience  of  his  posi- 
tion as  recorder,  and  makes  him  an  under-secre- 
tary  of  love.  Justifying  grace  transforms  con- 
science into  a  servant,  and  sets  the  believer  free. 

The  Biblical  word  which  describes  this  experi- 
ence is  "peace."  Peace  is  the  transmissive  func- 
tion of  faith.  It  is  the  precise  assurance  of  a 
status  before  God,  based  on  the  historic  deed  of 
the  cross,  which  conscience  cannot  dispute.  It  is 
not  easy  to  break  with  the  past.  As  poisonous 
exhalations    rise    from    a    marsh    and    endanger 


THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

health,  so  do  thoughts  of  past  transgressions 
threaten  the  health  of  the  soul.  It  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  throw  off  the  inherited  tendency  that  one 
must  do  something  to  be  saved.  Persistence  of 
this  feeling  means  bondage.  It  enslaves  the  mind 
and  wastes  the  energy  of  the  will  in  fruitless 
works.  The  ancient  world  had  learned  the  bitter 
lesson;  the  more  passionately  it  sought  peace,  the 
more  acutely  conscious  was  it  of  the  futihty  of 
human  effort.  It  was  not  in  man's  power  to  save 
himself,  but  he  could  not  abandon  the  quest.  Paul 
put  the  question  for  the  old  world  in  the  words: 
''O  wretched  man  that  I  am:  who  shall  deliver 
me  from  this  dead  body?"  He  saw  and  approved 
the  good,  but  power  to  perform  that  which  was 
right  he  found  not.  It  was  not  in  ritual,  it  was 
not  in  ethical  speculations,  and  it  was  not  in 
legal  obedience  of  a  revealed  law.  The  service 
of  the  law  was  the  most  burdensome  of  all  be- 
cause it  found  sin  in  a  state  of  suspended  anima- 
tion, and  left  it  acutely  alive  as  an  evil  power 
within  the  soul.  But  the  glorious  gospel  pro- 
claimed deliverance.  Christ  was  the  end  of  the  law 
for  righteousness  unto  every  one  that  believed. 
In  Christ  the  law  was  abolished  and  a  new  right- 
eousness was  revealed,  a  God  given  status  which 
none  could  dispute.  The  quest  of  the  ages  ended 
at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  because  the  atonement 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  TOWER    233 

made  justification  a  reality,  and  faith  in  Christ 
released  the  power  of  God  in  the  individual  soul 
and  the  issue  was  the  enjoyment  of  peace  that 
passed  all  understanding. 

This  was  a  wonderful  revelation,  because  it 
meant  the  end  of  dead  works  and  fruitless  quests 
to  serve  the  living  God  in  the  freedom  of  the 
spirit.  To  comprehend  justification  by  faith  will 
determine  whether  our  religious  experience  is  to 
be  founded  on  a  stable  peace  or  on  a  new  kind 
of  bondage.  I  remember  an  incident  of  my  child- 
hood. An  exposition  was  held  in  our  town,  and  I 
went  to  it  in  a  rather  unconventional  fashion.  I 
entered  it  not  by  the  door,  but  over  the  fence  in 
a  surreptitious  manner.  But  although  it  was  filled 
with  many  diverting  things  I  could  not  enjoy 
them,  because  I  was  continually  haunted  by  fear 
of  detection.  I  was  on  the  inside,  but  I  had  no 
right  to  be  there ;  and  my  pleasure  was  turned  into 
bondage.  The  joy  that  I  had  anticipated  was 
turned  into  trembling  unto  me.  Some  time  after 
I  went  again,  but  this  time  in  company  with  my 
father.  We  came  by  way  of  the  door  and  entered 
by  ticket,  and  I  gave  myself  unreservedly  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  exposition.  Many  people  enter 
the  treasure  house  of  God  without  being  sure  of 
their  rights  there.  They  are  always  looking  back, 
they  are  in  fear  of  detection;  the  conscience  like 


234  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

a  policeman  walks  in  the  midst  of  the  treasures 
of  grace,  and  they  are  afraid  for  their  souls.  Their 
religion  is  a  new  kind  of  bondage.  The  old  shadow 
of  Puritanism  still  falls  athwart  our  modern  lives. 
Our  religion  is  sour,  unattractive,  and  funereal. 
The  reason  for  this  is  found  in  an  undisciplined 
conscience,  and  the  cure  for  it  is  a  fresh  apprecia- 
tion of  justifying  grace.  Justifying  grace  gives 
us  peace  with  God  and  peace  with  ourselves. 
Peace  becomes  our  man  of  war,  and  guards  the 
heart  against  all  unhealthy  tendencies  and  aH 
unspiritual  experiences.  Justification  makes  con- 
science the  servant  of  love,  and  frees  the  spirit  to 
serve  the  living  God. 

It  is  impossible  to  overestimate  the  eagerness 
with  which  earnest  spirits  received  the  Pauline 
conception  of  justifying  faith.  The  peace  of  God, 
like  a  great  river,  made  glad  the  city  of  Mansoul, 
and  by  cleansing  it  of  the  poisonous  influences  of 
the  past,  made  it  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Wherever  the  doctrine  was  preached  men  seemed 
to  hear  again  the  great  voice  of  Jesus  calling: 
"Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Breaking  with 
an  evil  past  and  assured  of  the  love  and  protec- 
tion of  God,  they  were  enabled  to  work  out  their 
salvation  and  make  their  calling  and  election  sure. 
The  atoning  work  of  Christ  enabled  the  believer 


CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  JUSTIFYING  POWER    235 

to  pass  through  the  portals  of  pardoning  love 
into  the  Throne  Room  of  the  Almighty,  confident 
that  none  could  question  his  right  to  be  there. 

In  tliis  manner,  Paul  answered  the  first  of  the 
questions  raised  by  the  growing  experience  of  the 
church.  But  the  new  freedom  developed  ques- 
tions concerning  moral  progress.  Some  were  in- 
clined to  believe  that  faith  in  Christ  relieved  them 
of  moral  effort;  while  others  were  disposed  to 
doubt  their  salvation  so  long  as  sin  remained  in 
their  mortal  bodies.  Such  questions  made  a 
further  elaboration  of  doctrine  essential,  and 
opened  the  way  for  a  consideration  of  the  func- 
tion of  the  Christian  dynamic  in  the  growing  life 
of  the  church. 


LECTURE  VIII 

CHRISTIANITY    AS    A    CONSTRUCTIVE    POWER 


LECTURE  VIII 

CHRISTIANITY    AS    A    CONSTRUCTIVE    POWER 

It  was  the  distinctive  glory  of  Christianity  that 
it  could  say  to  the  men  of  the  first  century:  "You 
are  neither  under  the  law  of  Moses,  nor  the  law 
of  conscience,  but  through  faith  have  been  brought 
under  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus." 
Justifying  faith  suspended  the  age-long  struggle 
for  salvation  by  personal  effort,  and  this  was  what 
none  of  the  schemes  hitherto  devised  had  been  able 
to  do.  A  religion  of  grace  was  taking  the  place 
of  religions  of  works,  whose  promises  were  founded 
on  historic  performances.  The  immediate  out- 
come of  this  experience  was  a  new  sense  of  free- 
dom. 

But  how  was  the  new  freedom  to  be  understood  ? 
Did  justifying  faith  make  salvation  possible  apart 
from  a  holy  life?  If  salvation  were  a  free  gift, 
was  it  necessary  to  strive  after  perfection?  Chris- 
tianity was  a  law-free  religion,  and  to  many  it 
appeared  to  offer  peace  with  God  apart  from  an 
ethical  experience. 

Such  a  misconception  was  easy  for  the  Jew, 

239 


240  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

because  his  religious  sanctions  were  derived  from 
the  law  of  Moses.  The  only  religion  that  a  Jew 
could  understand  was  a  law-bound  religion,  and 
it  was  difficult  to  resist  the  conviction  that  Chris- 
tianity was  immoral  simply  because  it  set  aside  the 
law.  It  seemed  to  remove  all  legitimate  restraints 
from  human  nature  and  to  encourage  lawlessness 
and  self-indulgence. 

Such  a  misconception  was  easy  for  the  gentile, 
because  he  was  familiar  with  non-moral  religions. 
Religions  without  moral  sanctions  were  common 
in  the  ancient  world ;  the  mystery  cults  then  exer- 
cising a  wide  influence  in  the  empire  were  of  this 
character.  They  promised  blessedness  on  compli- 
ance with  ritual  requirements.  To  submit  to  a 
ceremonial  purification  admitted  the  devotee  to 
spiritual  privileges  without  regard  to  his  moral 
character.  Moreover  a  light-minded  man  will  al- 
ways take  religion  on  the  easiest  terms  and  seek 
a  maximum  of  benefit  with  a  minimum  expendi- 
ture of  effort.  The  mystery  religions  attracted 
many  because  they  offered  salvation  on  the  easy 
terms  of  ritual  conformity.  But  these  cults  suffered 
somewhat  in  popular  estimation  because  of  their 
non-historical  character.  Cybele,  Attis,  and  Isis 
turned  out  to  be  mythical  figures  without  dynamic 
authority.  It  was  different  with  Christianity. 
This  religion  was  historic  and  productive  of  re- 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    241 

suits  in  human  experience  through  the  Pcrson- 
ahty  of  Jesus.  The  age-long  quest  for  a  righting 
power  had  successfully  ended  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross.  God's  pardoning  love  was  founded  on  an 
historic  deed  of  sacrifice  which  gave  man  an  un- 
disputed status  before  God.  It  was  easy  for  un- 
disciplined minds  to  suppose  that  faith  in  this 
great  sacrifice  was  sufficient.  Having  suspended 
the  old  struggle  for  peace,  it  did  not  seem  neces- 
sary to  take  up  a  new  quest  for  holiness.  That 
such  a  view  was  current  is  apparent  from  tlie 
sixth  chapter  of  Romans:  "Shall  we  continue  in 
sin  that  grace  may  abound?  God  forbid.  How 
shall  we  that  are  dead  to  sin,  live  any  longer 
therein?" 

But  such  a  notion  of  Christian  experience  would 
not  satisfy  a  serious  mind.  How,  for  instance, 
would  it  strike  a  God-fearing  gentile?  This  man 
liad  completely  broken  with  native  superstitions, 
and  he  was  not  interested  in  mystery  cults  be- 
cause they  could  not  satisfy  his  craving  for  moral 
experience.  He  had  turned  to  Jewish  monothe- 
ism because  it  was  the  highest  and  best  form  of  re- 
ligion that  he  knew.  Still  Judaism  did  not  fully 
satisfy  him  because  it  had  no  dynamic;  and  he 
eagerly  embraced  Christianity,  not  only  because 
it  offered  peace  with  God,  but  imparted  power  to 
life  and  conduct.     It  would  not  be  a  pleasant 


24S  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

reflection  to  suppose  that  the  new  religion  would 
after  all  prove  as  disappointing  as  a  mystery 
cult.  If  faith  in  Christ  became  an  excuse  for 
lawlessness,  how  could  it  be  the  best  religion? 
Judaism,  in  spite  of  its  limitations,  was  far  better. 
The  truth  is,  a  serious  man,  be  he  Jew  or  gentile, 
could  not  accept  Christianity  on  these  terms.  No 
religion  can  permanently  hold  the  faith  and  loyalty 
of  a  serious  nature  that  does  not  satisfy  the  need 
for  ethical  experience. 

The  demand,  therefore,  for  a  moral  experience 
made  a  further  elaboration  of  Christian  doctrine 
essential.  For  no  sooner  was  the  believer  satis- 
fied as  to  his  status  with  God,  than  he  wished  to 
know  how  faith  met  the  problems  of  the  present 
life.  For  the  believer  had  a  new  experience,  un- 
questionably the  product  of  gospel  power.  Faith 
not  only  justified,  but  created  desires  and  stimu- 
lated passions  for  righteousness.  Still  the  new 
experience  required  interpretation.  Was  it  real 
or  fictitious?  Granted  that  faith  justified,  did 
it  also  renew  the  human  disposition?  Assuming 
that  the  death  of  the  Saviour  had  settled  man's 
past  obligations,  what  had  Christianity  to  say  for 
the  present  life?  In  other  words  could  the  new 
religion  set  the  enfranchised  spirit  to  work  in 
the  service  of  a  moral  ideal  with  a  reasonable  hope 
of  success? 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    243 

It  was  such  a  need  that  prompted  Paul  to  un- 
dertake a  further  development  of  doctrine.  First 
he  lays  down  the  characteristic  Pauline  proposition 
that  faith  in  Christ  means  union  with  Christ.  The 
Christian  life  was  a  unity;  for  the  sake  of  clear- 
ness it  might  be  viewed  in  various  relations,  but 
in  essence  it  was  one.  Justification  dealt  with 
man's  past;  it  removed  the  obligation  to  punish- 
ment through  the  atoning  merits  of  the  Saviour, 
but  justifying  faith  led  to  a  closer  union  of  the  be- 
liever with  the  Lord.  The  faith  which  justijfied 
also  united  the  Christian  with  the  renewing  and 
transforming  energies  of  the  Spirit.  Forgiveness 
was  the  gateway  to  a  new  experience.  Even  as 
Christ  died  and  rose  again,  so  believers  in  Christ 
die  unto  the  old  nature,  and  rise  to  newness  of 
life.  The  Christian  was  a  new  creature,  because 
he  was  a  new  creation. 

In  the  last  lecture  we  described  faith  as  the 
releasing  function  of  justification,  but  it  is  some- 
thing more  than  this.  Faith  unites  the  soul  to 
Christ.  To  believe  on  Christ  is  to  be  in  Christ. 
Paul  is  leading  up  to  the  conception  of  spirit- 
ual growth,  but  he  finds  it  necessary  first  to  speak 
of  the  connecting  link  between  forgiveness  and 
growth.    That  link  he  calls  adoption. 

Christ's  redemptive  work  is  comprehensively  de- 
scribed as  reconciliation.  But  reconciliation  means 


244  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

a  change  of  status  or  a  change  of  nature.  Spirit- 
ual growth  is  a  manifestation  of  a  transformed 
nature ;  but  adoption  has  to  do  with  reconcihation 
as  status.  Justification  gives  the  sinner  not  only 
the  status  of  pardon,  but  also  of  acquittal  of  all 
past  transgressions  through  the  merits  of  the  aton- 
ing Saviour.  But  the  notion  of  status  may  be  en- 
larged so  as  to  include  the  redeemed  sinner  in  the 
family  of  God.  This  enlarged  status  is  called 
adoption. 

Adoption  is  that  expression  of  Divine  grace 
which  gives  the  pardoned  sinner  the  status  of  a 
son  in  the  Father's  family.  This  conception  had 
a  very  definite  meaning  to  the  early  Christian. 
"The  Pauline  analogy  was  founded  on  one  of  the 
most  cherished  of  Roman  institutions,  fraught 
with  important  and  widely  reaching  results  both 
to  the  adopted  person  and  the  father  who  had  re- 
ceived him  into  his  family.  A  bond  was  formed 
which  even  death  could  not  sever.  The  adopter 
could  not,  even  if  he  would,  evade  the  new  rela- 
tionship, established  by  the  ceremony  of  adoption 
in  the  presence  of  the  appointed  witnesses.  The 
adopted  person  obtained  the  right  to  the  family 
inheritance,  and  so  close  was  the  relationship  con- 
ceived to  be,  that  the  tie  of  blood  was  no  stronger. 
.  .  .  The  object  of  the  Apostle  was  to  awaken 
men  to  the  full  realisation  of  their  glorious  privi- 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    245 

leges,  to  enable  them  to  comprehend  the  certainty, 
the  closeness  and  permanence  of  that  bond  which 
united  God  to  them  as  their  Father,  and  them  to 
God  as  His  sons;  to  assure  his  readers  that  the 
covenant  which  God  makes  with  every  believer 
in  Christ  Jesus  is  not  a  capricious  undertaking, 
liable  to  be  broken  at  any  moment,  but  a  pledge  to 
be  observed  by  Him  in  all  its  fulness,  because 
grounded  on  the  eternal  Truth  and  Justice."  ^ 

Justification  narrowly  considered  seemed  to 
leave  the  present  experience  detached  from  the 
life  of  God;  but  adoption  showed  how  man  was 
brought  into  the  Divine  family  and  given  the 
status  of  a  son.  And  this  met  one  of  the  deep 
longings  of  the  age.  For  centuries  the  world 
had  been  trying  to  realise  the  Fatherhood  of  God, 
and  the  notion  had  attained  a  definite  meaning  for 
Stoic  philosophy.  The  Stoic,  to  use  Mr.  Bevan's 
phrase,  believed  in  a  "Friend  behind  phenomena." 
Three  centuries  before  Christ  Cleanthes  had  con- 
fessed the  Stoic  belief: 

"We  are  thy  children,  we  alone,  of  all 
On  earth's  broad  ways  that  wander  to  and  fro, 
Bearing  thine  image  wheresoe'er  we  go."  " 

Unquestionably  the  pagan  world   was   dimly 

aware  of  the  truth,  but  it  was  obliged  to  feci  after 

*  Mnnt/:  "Rome,  St.  Paul  and  the  Early  Churcli,"  \)\). 
86-87. 

^  Hvnin  to  Zoiis,  Adam's  translation. 


246  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

God  in  the  darkness  of  superstition.  It  was  not 
able  to  realise  it  in  any  concrete  way,  because 
there  was  no  actual  contact  of  God's  grace  with 
human  need. 

But  Christianity  was  the  rehgion  of  revelation; 
it  was  the  unfolding  of  the  mystery  of  grace. 
Christ's  sacrificial  death  had  revealed  the  Father- 
hood of  God,  and  the  intense  longing  for  this 
filial  relation  to  God  had  been  confirmed  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  the  witness 
to  the  adopting  act.  He  bears  witness  with  our 
spirits  that  we  are  the  children  of  God.  Adoption 
was  a  manifestation  of  divine  love:  "Behold  what 
manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us, 
that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God."  ^  In 
the  Christian  revelation,  the  great  spirit  of  the 
universe,  the  wished-for  "Friend  behind  phe- 
nomena" became  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 

Justification  and  adoption  are  links  in  a  chain 
of  redemptive  causes  which  deal  with  man's  status 
before  God:  one  acquits  him  of  the  guilt  of  sin, 
the  other  admits  him  into  the  Divine  family. 

But  the  idea  of  status  does  not  exhaust  the 
gift  of  love.  There  is  also  a  vital  change  of  the 
human  disposition.  The  believer  realised  that  a 
new  power  was  functioning  in  life.    He  had  been 

^  I  John  iii:l. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    247 

quickened  with  Christ  and  was  alive  to  new  rela- 
tionships. The  works  of  the  flesh  were  being  elimi- 
nated and  new  desires  were  forming  in  the  soul. 

How  was  this  experience  to  be  understood? 
What  share  had  man  in  its  develoj^ment  ?  Paul 
answered  this  question  with  the  doctrine  of  sanc- 
tification.  Sanctification  describes  the  construc- 
tive function  of  the  Christian  dynamic. 

Back  of  growth  is  the  mysterious  experience  of 
regeneration.  But  Paul  does  not  carefully  formu- 
late this  doctrine,  because  it  was  not  needed.  He 
was  dealing  with  a  people  who  were  tremendously 
alive,  and  who  were  not  so  anxious  to  understand 
how  they  had  been  born,  as  to  know  how  to  meet 
the  problems  of  the  expanding  life.  This  enabled 
the  Apostle  to  pass  from  a  consideration  of  re- 
conciliation as  a  change  of  status,  to  reconcilia- 
tion as  a  change  of  nature. 

Growth  creates  perj^lexities  for  serious  minds 
because  it  usually  sharpens  the  sense  of  opposition. 
Moral  effort  sooner  or  later  reveals  a  schism  within 
the  soul.  There  is  a  law  in  the  mind  and  a  law  in 
the  members;  there  is  conflict  between  the  flesh 
and  the  spirit. 

Plato  has  described  the  conflict  between  flesh  and 
spirit  in  the  myth  of  the  charioteer  and  the  winged 
horses.*     One  horse  is  noble,  pure  and  amenable 

*See  Dickinson:     "Greek  View  of  Life,"  pp.  liG-11-9. 


248  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

to  right  reason;  the  other  is  earthly,  sensual  and 
perverse,  and  the  struggle  to  control  creatures, 
so  diverse  in  disposition,  makes  up  life's  moral 
experience.  The  ancients  could  discover  no  ade- 
quate method  of  reconciling  these  opposing  forces. 
With  all  his  faith  in  the  power  of  intelligence, 
Aristotle  is  obliged  to  confess  that  there  is  a  con- 
cupiscent part  of  the  soul  that  is  not  subject  to 
reason.  The  thinking  and  especially  the  experi- 
ence of  later  ages  made  this  point  clear ;  and  Paul's 
period  was  keenly  aware  of  human  perversity,  and 
equally  lacking  in  power.  How,  then,  would  the 
experience  of  growth  impress  a  serious  nature? 
Assuming  that  the  grace  of  God  provided  for 
justification,  did  it  also  promise  power  for  the 
realisation  of  a  holy  life?  Could  Divine  power 
control  and  finally  overcome  the  concupiscent  part 
of  the  soul?  That  question  had  to  be  answered, 
since  no  religion  can  stand  on  justification  alone; 
it  must  also  give  power  to  lead  a  holy  life.  Could 
Christianity  do  this? 

For  so  soon  as  the  believer  was  assured  of  his 
status,  he  became  aware  of  a  new  problem. 
Contact  with  Christ  sharpened  the  radical  differ- 
ence between  good  and  evil,  and  made  man  aware 
of  the  tremendous  power  of  the  flesh,  to  resist  and 
even  to  defeat  the  holy  aspirations  of  the  newly 
enfranchised  spirit. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    249 

Paul  has  a  great  deal  to  say  of  the  warfare  of 
flesh  and  spirit.  By  flesh  he  does  not  mean  the 
material  body,  but  that  system  of  disorderly  and 
self-regarding  desires  which  opposes  the  reign  of 
spirituality.  The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against 
God ;  it  cannot  be  subject  to  the  w ill  of  God.  The 
natural  man  is  under  the  dominion  of  flesh,  while 
the  spiritual  man  is  under  the  dominion  of  spirit. 
If  the  spirit  is  to  triumph,  the  flesh  must  be  put 
to  death.  There  must  be  a  transformation  of  the 
inner  disposition.  Although  the  Christian  was 
renewed  in  the  inner  life,  the  problem  of  growth 
had  to  be  faced.  He  must  put  on  Christ  in  the 
moral  habit  and  disposition  of  the  mind,  and  make 
no  provision  for  the  flesh  to  fulfil  its  lawless  de- 
sires. 

This  was  a  splendid  programme,  but  could  it  be 
carried  out?  The  plain  fact  confronted  the  be- 
liever: contact  with  Christ  intensified  the  reahty 
of  the  struggle  with  evil.  The  flesh  lusted  against 
the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh,  and  no 
compromise  was  possible.  We  have  had  occasion 
in  previous  lectures  to  note  the  fact  that  the  older 
Stoics  made  no  allowance  for  human  imperfec- 
tion. They  held  that  a  man  was  either  wliolly 
good  or  wholly  bad.  Their  favorite  ilhistration, 
as  Mr.  Bevan  has  pointed  out,  was  "that  a  man  a 
foot  below  the  water  is  in  a  drownin^i^  condition 


S50  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

just  as  much  as  a  man  a  mile  down."  ^  They  ad- 
mitted that  a  perfect  man  was  a  rarity,  but  they 
would  make  no  concessions  to  imperfection,  for 
fear  of  impairing  the  moral  ideal.  Although  later 
Stoics  tempered  this  hard  doctrine,  the  feeling 
still  remained  to  torment  earnest  souls.  It  power- 
fully affected  growing  Christians.  How  was  it 
possible  to  believe  in  the  soundness  of  one's  salva- 
tion so  long  as  sin  remained  in  the  mortal  body? 
The  Orphics  among  the  Greeks  had  settled  the 
question  by  saying  that  the  body  was  the  tomb  of 
the  soul ;  that  matter  was  essentially  evil  and  that 
the  spirit  could  be  delivered  only  by  death.  But 
the  Christian  could  not  hold  such  a  view.  Evil 
dwelt  in  the  thoughts  and  disposition  of  the  mind. 
The  higher  a  man  aimed  the  more  conscious  was 
he  of  the  presence  of  sin  in  experience,  not  be- 
cause his  sins  increased  in  bulk,  but  because  moral 
effort  increased  the  sensitiveness  of  the  soul. 
Mere  status,  then,  however  glorious,  could  not 
meet  a  need  like  this.  How  could  a  Christian  be- 
lieve his  sins  were  forgiven,  so  long  as  evil  in- 
fluenced his  conduct? 

This  feeling  made  men  doubt  the  adequacy  of 
Christianity,  and  exposed  them  to  the  temptations 
current  in  that  syncretic  age.  Many,  in  those 
days,  could  not  be  satisfied  with  a  simple  religion; 

^"Stoics  and  Skeptics,"  p.  71. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    251 

they  were  engaged  in  various  improvements  and 
additions  to  current  faiths,  and  cults  borrowed 
from  each  other  with  impunity.  The  satisfaction 
of  the  devotee  appeared  to  depend  on  the  num- 
ber and  variety  of  elements  taken  from  other  re- 
ligions. It  was  natural  that  Christians  should 
feel  the  force  of  this  tendency.  They  would  ask: 
Is  not  something  lacking  in  the  gospel  w^hich  may 
be  supplied  from  without?  It  was  such  a  feeling 
that  tempted  the  Galatians  to  mix  Moses  with 
Christ.  The  tendency  was  also  present  in  the 
church  at  Colossse.  Some  were  inclined  to  adopt 
the  Orphic  notion  of  the  evil  of  matter;  others 
were  interested  in  the  worship  of  "elemental 
spirits,"  and  still  others  were  disposed  to  practise 
a  false  asceticism,  borrowed  for  the  most  part 
from  the  Jews ;  and  all  were  inclined  to  believe  that 
by  the  addition  of  one  thing  or  another  they 
would  get  a  better  Christianity. 

The  tendency  to  supplement  Christ's  redemp- 
tive work  from  outside  sources  is  a  very  stubborn 
one.  It  is  occasioned  usually  by  the  difficulty  of 
believing  in  a  religion  of  gi^ace  ratlier  than  of 
works.  It  is  very  difficult  to  follow  the  Christian 
programme,  when  every  advance  sharpens  the  con- 
flict between  flesh  and  spirit,  without  being 
tempted  to  do  something  of  a  supplementary  char- 
acter to  sustain  the  meagre  resources  of  faith. 


252  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

This  feeling,  so  deeply  rooted  in  human  nature, 
accounts  for  the  power  of  old  Jewish  practices;  it 
explains  the  attraction  of  asceticism  in  the  early 
church;  it  gave  Roman  Catholicism  great  influ- 
ence in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  is  responsible  in  part 
at  least  for  the  confusion  in  the  mind  of  some  theo- 
logians, concerning  the  relation  of  justification  to 
sanctification.  This  latter  is  a  vicious  mistake,  for 
it  practically  makes  one's  faith  in  justifying  grace 
dependent  on  one's  opinion  of  moral  progress,  and 
is  utterly  contrary  to  the  Bibhcal  view,  as  it  is 
destructive  of  peace. 

Paul's  answer  to  the  whole  contention  was  that 
since  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwelt  in  Christ, 
Christians  were  complete  in  Him.  It  was  impos- 
sible on  the  one  hand  to  accept  the  antinomian  con- 
tention that  salvation  by  faith  alone  inevitably 
led  to  lawlessness,  since  faith  in  Christ  meant 
union  with  the  life  and  power  of  Christ.  It  was 
equally  impossible  on  the  other  hand  to  ignore 
the  plain  fact  that  the  new  life  was  a  life  of  strife. 
It  deepened  the  notion  of  sin  and  sharpened  the 
conflict  between  flesh  and  spirit,  but  the  Chris- 
tian was  assured  of  resources  in  Christ  adequate 
to  meet  all  problems  growing  out  of  the  new  life 
of  holiness.  It  was  folly  then  to  go  outside  of 
Christ,  since  His  grace  was  sufficient  for  all  prac- 
tical needs. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    253 

According  to  Paul,  justification  must  be  com- 
plete before  sanctification  can  begin.  They  were 
closely  related  but  essentially  distinct  functions 
of  grace.  Justification  was  an  act,  sanctification 
was  a  work.  In  justification  God  was  the  sole 
agent;  in  sanctification  God  and  man  worked  to- 
gether. As  Prof.  Stearns  puts  it,  "Justification 
is  the  setting  of  the  broken  bone ;  it  brings  the  soul 
into  its  true  relation  to  God;  it  has  sanctification 
for  its  object.  Sanctification  is  the  healing,  a 
process  wholly  different  and  wholly  distinct."  ^ 

It  is  important  to  notice  that  while  perfection 
of  character  is  the  ultimate  goal  of  sanctification, 
it  is  not  its  immediate  object.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  in  this  life  a  man  can  form  a  true  estimate 
of  perfection.  There  is  danger  in  attempting  to 
do  so,  for  fear  of  suspending  the  struggle  without 
which  perfection  is  impossible.  The  immediate 
object  of  sanctification  is  not  perfection,  but  rea- 
sonable progress  in  the  divine  life.  Its  aim  is  not 
the  suspension  of  struggle,  but  the  avoidance  of 
useless  effort.  The  old  effort  after  perfection  was 
to  found  salvation  on  the  basis  of  human  merit, 
or  attainment.  Tliis  was  the  significance  of  the 
quest  for  safe  conduct.  But  this  abortive  effort 
had  been  set  aside  by  the  coming  of  Christ.  Faith 
in  the  atoning  mercy  of  the  Saviour,  by  tlie  grace 

^  'Tresent  Day  Theology,"  p.  447. 


254  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

of  justification  delivered  the  soul  from  past  fears 
and  bondage,  to  serve  the  living  God  in  the  free- 
dom of  the  spirit.  But  this  new  liberty  was  not 
deliverance  from  struggle,  but  only  from  the  fruit- 
less and  unavailing  effort  to  lay  a  basis  of  salva- 
tion in  human  merits. 

Paul  vigorously  describes  the  new  experience. 
Sometimes  it  is  a  race,  at  other  times  a  boxing 
match;  still  again  it  is  called  a  battle,  and  in  one 
place  it  is  a  wrestling  match  with  formidable  pow- 
ers of  darkness.  It  was  always  strenuous.  The 
growing  Christian  could  never  say  that  he  had  at- 
tained, or  was  already  perfect.  The  best  he  could 
say  was  that  he  was  pressing  on.  In  this  warfare 
our  weapons  were  not  carnal.  Power  to  succeed 
in  this  realm  must  come  from  spiritual  relation- 
ships. The  believer  was  encouraged  by  the  further 
revelation  of  sanctifying  power  issuing  from  the 
free  gift  of  salvation.  The  grace  that  bestowed 
the  status  of  a  son  was  also  given  to  ensure  the  ex- 
perience of  a  son  by  the  progressive  transforma- 
tion of  man's  nature.  The  active  agent  in  this 
new  experience  is  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God;  He 
is  the  leader  of  the  regenerate  nature  in  its  warfare 
on  the  flesh.  As  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  they  are  the  sons  of  God. 

The  growing  Christian  would  be  intensely  in- 
terested in  the  teaching  about  the  Holy  Spirit, 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    S55 

and  Paul  naturally  devotes  a  great  deal  of  at- 
tention to  the  subject.  The  Spirit  is  the  witness 
with  our  spirits  that  we  are  children  of  God.  He 
is  the  earnest  of  the  purchased  possession;  the  in- 
terpreter of  the  unexpressed  longings  of  the  grow- 
ing soul;  the  seal  of  the  Father's  love  and  the 
guarantee  of  a  completed  salvation.  He  regen- 
erates, renews,  quickens,  guides  and  informs  the 
soul  in  its  progress  towards  the  divine  ideal.  Man's 
co-operation  is  needed,  but  power  issues  from  the 
divine  energy  imparted  through  faith.  The  active 
agent  charged  with  the  responsible  task  of  de- 
veloping the  divine  experience  in  the  life  of  man 
is  the  "Holy"  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  righteousness 
and  of  love.  He  is  also  the  "Spirit  of  Christ," 
manifesting  the  same  attitude  and  disposition 
towards  man  as  was  experienced  in  Christ.  As 
such  He  was  no  stranger  or  outsider,  but  an  active 
participant  in  the  great  work  of  salvation. 

We  cannot  overestimate  the  tremendous  sig- 
nificance of  this  revelation  for  the  first  Christian 
century.  Belief  in  the  activity  of  spirits  was  prac- 
tically universal  in  those  days,  but  it  was  not  al- 
ways an  encouraging  belief.  There  were  many 
reasons  for  the  notion.  For  one  thing  it  was 
very  old,  and  had  been  inherited  by  the  Romans 
from  Greece  and  tlie  Orient.  It  was  especially 
influential  in  the  first  century  because  of  the  grow- 


^56  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ing  belief  even  among  pagans  in  the  moral  sig- 
nificance of  God.  When  the  conscience  sleeps 
it  is  easy  to  bring  the  gods  down  to  the  ordinary 
level  of  human  life  and  make  them  in  man's  like- 
ness; but  when  conscience  awakes  it  turns  round 
on  inherited  beliefs  and  modifies  them  in  the  in- 
terest of  a  purer  conception  of  Deity.  As  the  idea 
of  God  is  moralised  and  spiritualised,  He  becomes 
remote  and  inaccessible  to  man.  The  feeling  of  the 
aloofness  of  God  was  common  in  the  first  century. 
It  was  almost  universally  believed  that  any  com- 
munication with  Deity  depended  on  mediators  of 
one  sort  or  another.  This  led  to  the  notion  of 
intermediate  gods  or  elemental  spirits.  "Great 
was  the  multitude  of  this  heavenly  host,  inter- 
preters between  God  and  man;  'thrice  ten  thou- 
sand are  they  upon  the  fruitful  earth,  immortal, 
ministers  of  Zeus,'  healers  of  the  sick,  revealers 
of  what  is  dark,  aiding  the  craftsman,  companions 
of  the  wayfarer."  "^  Plutarch  said  that  it  could 
be  proved  "on  the  testimony  of  wise  and  ancient 
witnesses  that  there  were  natures,  as  it  were  on  the 
frontiers  of  the  gods  and  men,  that  admit  mortal 
passions  and  inevitable  changes,  whom  we  may 
rightly,  after  the  custom  of  our  fathers,  consider 
to    be    daemons,    and    so    calling   them,    worship 

^  Dill :     "Roman  Society  from  Nero  to  Marcus  Aurelius/' 
pp.  429-430. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    257 

them."^  And  Plutarch  was  stating  the  general 
belief  of  the  time.  These  demons  "serve  two  pur- 
poses in  religious  philosophy.  They  safeguard 
the  Absolute  and  the  higher  gods  from  contact 
with  matter,  and  they  relieve  the  Author  of  Good 
from  responsibility  for  evil.  At  the  same  time 
they  supply  the  means  of  that  relation  to  the  di- 
vine which  is  essential  for  man's  higher  life."  ^ 

Opinion  differed  as  to  the  nature  of  these  in- 
termediate spirits.  Some  were  of  the  same  essence 
as  God  Himself ;  others  had  mixed  natures,  partly 
divine  and  partly  human.  Plutarch  said  "that 
they  were  godlike  in  power  and  intelligence,  but 
human  in  liability  to  the  passions  engendered  by 
the  flesh." '' 

It  was  inevitable  that  such  views  should  de- 
velop into  the  notion  of  a  tyranny  of  malignant 
spirits,  "tainted  with  the  evil  of  the  lower  world." 
In  order  to  reconcile  the  old  myths  with  prevailing 
ethical  conceptions  of  deity,  the  doctrine  of  the 
familiar  spirit  was  devised.  The  gods  were  be- 
lieved to  be  good,  but  they  were  often  as  in  the 
case  of  Zeus  misrepresented  by  their  familiar 
spirits.    Such  notions  led,  of  course,  to  a  spread  of 

^Quoted  by  Glover:     "Conflict  of  Religions  in  the  Early 
Roman  Empire,"  pp.  96-97. 
»  Glover:     Op.  Cit.,  p.  97- 
^°  Quoted  by  Dill:     Op.  Cit,  p.  431. 


258  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

superstition,  to  a  dread  of  gods  and  dgemons  of 
the  most  degrading  influence.  The  favour  of  good 
daemons  could  be  gained  by  observing  the  ritual  re- 
quirements of  the  mystery  religions,  but  there  was 
no  sure  wa}^  of  obtaining  the  good  will  of  evil 
daemons.  This  gross  superstition  roused  the  noble 
scorn  of  Lucretius  in  the  preceding  century,  but 
the  dread  of  elemental  spirits  was  even  more  com- 
mon in  Paul's  time.  The  universe  was  filled  with 
capricious  beings ;  even  the  Most  High  God  might 
have  a  famihar  spirit,  capable  of  misrepresenting 
Him. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  eagerness  of  a  people, 
long  familiar  with  the  dread  of  elemental  spirits, 
in  receiving  the  Pauline  revelation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  God  Himself  was  present  in  the  believer's 
life.  The  Historic  Christ  had  brought  man  into 
living  contact  with  the  Lord  of  Glory,  and  the 
Great  Spirit  of  the  Universe  had  come  down  from 
His  inaccessible  heights  to  dwell  in  sympathetic 
relation  with  the  children  of  men. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  active 
agent  in  the  growth  of  the  Christian  met  the  sec- 
ond pressing  need  of  the  times.  The  first  need 
Paul  had  met  with  the  doctrine  of  justifying  faith. 
The  second  need  was  met  with  the  assurance  of 
reasonable  progress  in  the  divine  life,  in  spite  of 
indwelling  sin  and  the  prolonged  struggle  with 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    259 

the  flesh.  But  a  third  and  final  question  would 
be  raised:  What  of  the  future?  Is  Christianity 
capable  of  bringing  man  to  the  goal  of  his  hopes  ? 
Was  there  a  stage  beyond  sanctification  ?  God 
had  begLin  a  good  work  in  man,  did  He  intend  to 
complete  it? 

This  question  was  raised  in  part  by  the  growth 
of  the  Christian,  and  in  part  also  by  the  increas- 
ing complications  of  life  in  this  world. 

The  outstanding  fact  of  the  new  experience  was 
the  fact  of  dependence.  The  Christian  knew  that 
his  experience  was  an  effect.  He  was  what  he 
was  by  the  grace  of  God.  He  was  just  as  de- 
pendent on  grace  for  progress  in  holiness  as  he 
had  been  in  the  first  instance  upon  pardoning  love. 
He  could  not  boast  of  his  spiritual  attainment, 
because  the  goal  of  perfection  receded  as  he  ap- 
proached it.  It  was  a  flying  goal,  and  the  best 
he  could  say  was  that  he  was  pressing  on.  But 
sooner  or  later  he  had  to  face  the  question  of  at- 
tainment. Progress  could  not  be  indefinitely  pro- 
longed: would  he  then  reach  the  goal?  He  was 
sure  if  he  did,  it  would  be  by  the  grace  of  God. 
This  made  him  intensely  anxious  to  know  whether 
there  was  a  Divine  plan  comprehensive  enough  to 
meet  all  requirements  back  of  his  faith  and  life. 
He  wanted  a  larger  concept  of  religion;  one  that 
would  embrace  the  several  aspects  of  experience. 


^60  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

Paul  had  been  revealing  the  several  links  in  the 
chain  of  redemptive  causes.  But  the  believer 
wanted  to  see  the  whole  chain,  its  beginning  and 
end.  He  saw  justification,  adoption  and  sancti- 
fication;  was  there  not  a  further  link  of  glorifica- 
tion still  to  be  revealed?  He  asked  this  question 
because  his  experience  had  reached  the  stage  where 
unity  in  the  several  processes  of  his  life  was  essen- 
tial to  abiding  peace. 

An  additional  influence  in  this  direction  was  the 
increasing  complications  of  life  in  this  world. 
Christians  were  beginning  to  attract  the  unfa- 
vourable attention  of  society.  The  profession 
was  becoming  dangerous  not  only  to  leaders  but 
also  to  followers.  The  disciples  were  realising  the 
increasing  cost  of  living  with  Christ.  The  early 
Christians  universally  believed  that  Christ  would 
return  during  their  lifetime,  and  their  hopes  at 
the  outset  were  fixed  on  this  blessed  expectation. 
But  as  time  passed  it  appeared  as  if  they  were 
to  be  disappointed.  Some  were  growing  lax,  others 
had  fallen  away,  and  some  were  growing  scep- 
tical and  saying:  "Where  is  the  promise  of  his 
coming?  for  since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all  things 
continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation."  ^^  Above  all  the  menace  of  Nero's  evil 
reign  was  becoming  portentous,  and  the  future 

"II  Peter  iii:4.. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    261 

held  the  promise  of  persecution  and  death  for 
many. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  Roman  Chris- 
tians did  not  suggest  that  Christ  save  them  from 
such  a  future.  They  were  wilhng  to  endure  hard- 
ship and  even  suffer  death  for  Christ's  sake.  Un- 
doubtedly many  who  read  Paul's  great  epistle 
suffered  under  Nero.  But  they  knew  the  weak- 
ness of  the  flesh,  and  had  no  confidence  in  them- 
selves. How  would  they  behave  in  the  flames? 
What  would  be  their  attitude  when  they  saw  the 
lions  in  the  arena?  How  could  they  stand  against 
the  opposition  of  the  Roman  world?  They  dare 
not  trust  themselves,  but  could  they  trust  God? 
That  depended  on  His  plan  for  their  life.  Would 
His  gi-ace  hold  them  true  as  they  passed  through 
the  fires,  and  in  spite  of  unworthiness  bring  them 
to  the  goal  of  their  hopes? 

That  was  an  urgent  question.  Stoics  like  Seneca 
tried  to  answer  it  with  a  conception  of  Provi- 
dence very  like  fatalism,  but  it  was  a  hard  old 
creed,  and  few  could  abide  it.  But  the  God  and 
Father  of  Jesus  Christ  was  not  the  rigid  deity 
of  the  Stoic  philosophy.  He  had  loved  them  in 
the  past  and  He  loved  them  in  the  present,  but 
would  He  love  them  unto  the  end?  Was  it  not 
natural  then  to  ask  for  further  explanations  of 
the  Divine  purpose  that  would  enable  them  to  be 


S62  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

more  than  conquerors  in  the  coming  persecution? 

This  question  was  urgent  because  of  the  tragedy 
of  the  Jewish  nation.  If  God  had  a  plan,  had  it 
not  been  revealed  in  the  history  of  the  Jew?  But 
the  law  had  failed  to  save  the  Jew,  and  his  nation 
had  been  rejected.  Did  this  imply  the  failure  of 
God's  plan,  or  was  there  something  more  to  be 
said? 

It  was  this  need,  issuing  from  the  mature  Chris- 
tian experience,  and  the  complications  of  life  that 
prompted  Paul  to  formulate  the  doctrine  of  the 
Divine  purpose.  The  very  word  "predestination" 
bristles  with  difficulties,  and  it  is  unlikely  that  one 
could  answer  all  objections  made  to  it.  We  must 
frankly  admit  the  presence  of  a  deep  mystery  in 
the  ways  of  God  with  men.  A  philosophy  of 
Providence  is  impossible  since  the  finite  mind  can 
never  fully  comprehend  the  Infinite.  But  it  is 
evident  to  any  one  familiar  with  the  relation  of 
Christian  teaching  to  the  life  of  those  times,  that 
the  doctrine  of  election  was  taught  for  a  very 
practical  purpose.  It  was  not  meant  for  babes 
in  Christ,  but  for  strong  men.  It  would  have 
been  an  enigma  to  the  Corinthians,  but  it  was  as 
plain  as  a  pike  staff  to  the  Romans,  simply  be- 
cause they  had  reached  a  stage  where  light  on  the 
Divine  purpose  was  essential  to  further  progress. 

The  doctrine  of  election,  so  far  from  being  a 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    263 

perplexing  mystery,  is  a  plain  and  necessary  ele- 
ment in  spiritual  education.  It  is  a  doctrine  for 
the  maturer  stages  of  faith,  but  if  I  am  right  in 
accounting  for  the  conditions  which  made  the  doc- 
trine essential,  I  think  it  can  be  shown  to  have 
great  utility  for  a  growing  intelligence,  for  it  pre- 
pares the  believer  for  successfully  overcoming  the 
temptations  which  issue  from  the  deeper  phases  of 
Christian  experience. 

The  doctrine  of  election  is  the  revelation  of 
the  plan  behind  the  believer's  life.  It  is  the  prin- 
ciple that  co-ordinates  the  plan  of  salvation.  It 
is  the  final  cause  of  redemption.  In  this  book, 
I  have  consistently  maintained  the  causal  signifi- 
cance of  Christianity ;  I  have  asked  you  to  consider 
doctrine  in  part  at  least  as  descriptive  of  function. 
If  this  be  true,  we  may  regard  election  as  the  ex- 
planation of  the  purpose  that  gives  meaning  and 
cohesion  to  the  Christian  dynamic  which  functions 
through  faith  in  the  interests  of  a  complete  salva- 
tion. 

Paul  develops  the  discussion  along  several 
lines.  First  he  shows  that  the  law  and  gospel 
are  not  two  diif  erent  plans  of  salvation,  but  two 
phases  of  one  and  the  same  plan.  So  far  from 
failing  to  fulfil  its  Divine  mission,  the  law  was  a 
complete  success.  It  had  accurately  diagnosed 
the  world's  spiritual  malady,  and  by  revealing  the 


264  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

positive  and  negative  aspects  of  sin,  had  established 
a  need  for  redemption.  Furthermore,  through 
its  types  and  symbols,  it  had  efficiently  served 
as  an  attendance  officer  to  bring  the  world  to 
Christ.  Christ  was  the  end  of  the  law  for  right- 
eousness, to  every  one  that  believed.  Paul  knew 
from  his  own  experience  that  the  law  was  efficient. 
It  had  not  failed;  what  it  had  done  was  to  estab- 
lish the  fact  that  the  race  could  be  saved  on  no 
other  terms  than  those  of  free  grace. 

The  law  was  given  to  a  chosen  nation ;  that  was 
an  advantage;  but  the  covenant  which  God  made 
with  the  Jew  was  not  based  on  the  law  but  on  the 
agreement  with  Abraham.  The  Abrahamic  cove- 
nant was  based  on  faith  rather  than  works.  Israel 
was  elect  unto  certain  privileges,  but  they  did  not 
confer  the  blessing  of  a  personal  election.  That 
depended  on  other  conditions  entirely.  The  na- 
tion's failure  did  not  imply  the  failure  of  God's 
plan ;  on  the  contrary,  it  proved,  as  Prof.  Stevens 
truly  observes,  that  there  was  "an  election  within 
the  election."  ^^ 

This  more  intimate  phase  of  election  was  indi- 
cated by  the  calling  of  the  gentiles.  It  unfolded 
the  mystery  of  God,  hitherto  a  Divine  secret,  but 
now  made  manifest  in  the  universality  of  the  gos- 
pel offer ;  but  within  this  general  call,  there  was  an 

^2  "The  Theology  of  the  New  Testament/'  p.  S81. 


CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER    S65 

effectual  calling.  Mature  Christians  knew  some- 
thing of  this,  for,  says  Paul,  "We  know  that  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God ;  to  them  who  are  the  called  according  to  His 
purpose."  ^^  It  w^as  impossible  to  believe  that  God 
would  begin  such  an  experience  as  they  enjoyed, 
jand  then  allow  it  to  fail  in  the  face  of  the  very 
complications  that  it  raised. 

From  an  assured  position  in  experience  Paul 
proceeds  to  develop  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine 
j  purpose.  Christians  are  predestinated  to  be  con- 
I  formed  to  the  likeness  of  Christ.  The  plan  behind 
ithe  life  is  indicated  in  the  successive  links  of  a 
causal  chain:  whom  He  called,  He  justified,  whom 
He  justified.  He  sanctified,  and  whom  He  sanc- 
tified He  will  also  glorify.^* 

What  more  can  we  want  than  this?  No  doubt 
there  is  still  much  to  be  said  from  the  point  of 
I  view  of  the  theologian,  the  seeker  for  a  complete 
I  system;  but  for  the  growing  Christian  whose  aim 
is  to  understand  in  some  measure  the  implications 
of  his  experience,  nothing  further  than  this  is 
needed,  since  this  is  about  all  Paul  told  the  Ro- 
mans about  it. 

But  some  one  will  say:  If  you  assert  the  effi- 
ciency of  the  Divine  Will  in  all  the  processes  of 

"Romans  viii:28. 
^*  Romans  viiiiSO. 


^66  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

salvation,  do  you  not  relieve  the  believer  of  moral 
effort  ?  The  answer  is  plainly  no,  simply  because 
the  only  practical  evidence  of  a  Divine  purpose  in 
individual  life  is  reasonable  progress  towards  holi- 
ness. But  this  progress  need  not  be  consciously 
continuous.  As  8t  matter  of  fact,  many  do  lose  it 
temporarily;  they  seem  to  fall  from  grace,  but  if 
God  begins  a  work  of  grace  in  man's  soul.  He  will 
perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  a 
child  disobeys  his  father  and  falls  down  the  steps, 
he  does  not  fall  out  of  the  house ;  because  his  body 
is  bruised,  he  does  not  cease  to  be  his  father's 
child.  And  if  it  be  objected,  How  about  falhng 
out  of  the  window  ?  my  answer  is  that  there  are  no 
windows  in  this  house ;  it  opens  only  on  the  eternal 
glories  of  that  great  upper  world  where  God  waits 
the  home  coming  of  His  children. 

The  mystery  of  the  Divine  purpose  is  the  mys- 
tery of  a  love  so  wise  and  comprehensive  as  to 
meet  all  the  requirements  of  a  growing  experience, 
and  to  give  positive  assurance  that  in  spite  of  the 
complications  of  this  present  evil  world  the  be- 
liever shall  arrive  at  the  goal  of  his  hopes.  Justi- 
fying faith  is  the  title  deed  to  salvation,  and  elec- 
tion is  the  abstract  of  that  title,  which  traces  our 
right  to  it  straight  back  to  the  source  of  all  good. 

"If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us?" 


[      CHRISTIANITY  A  CONSTRUCTIVE  POWER  S67 

writes  the  great  Apostle,  as  he  sees  in  vision  those 
earnest  Roman  faces.  He  knew  the  strain  tliat 
would  shortly  come  on  their  faith;  he  knew  the 
mighty  temptations  to  yield  in  the  face  of  persecu- 
tion ;  he  knew  how  the  arch  fear  would  grip  those 
brave  hearts  when  they  saw  the  cords  and  the 
stakes,  the  lions  and  the  arena.  These  people 
wanted  assurance  that  they  would  not  fail;  they 
passionately  wished  to  endure  without  flinching 
the  last  struggle  with  the  world;  and  he  knew 
moreover  that  they  were  intelligent  enough  to  un- 
derstand his  meaning :  so  he  did  not  hesitate  to  tell 
them  that  behind  their  experience,  working 
through  all  the  stages  of  the  new  life,  was  the 
great  purpose  of  God;  and  in  words  of  immortal 
beauty  he  gathers  up  the  possibilities  of  the  situa- 
tion and  affirms  a  truth  which  reasonable  faith 
will  confirm,  that  through  all  the  phases  of  our 
earthly  pilgrimage  there  is  being  realised  an  un- 
changeable plan,  a  plan  grounded  in  love  and  sus- 
j  tained  by  a  power  adequate  to  fulfil  its  promises 
and  complete  its  undertakings. 

The  Christian  life  is  rooted  and  grounded  in 
the  Divine  Energy.  When  God  comes  into  a 
man's  life,  He  comes  to  stay.  That  life  begins, 
grows  and  ends  in  God;  and  behind  its  hopes  and 
its  fears,  its  longings  and  desires,  stands  the  his- 


268  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

toric  Personality  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  lived  and 
died  and  rose  again  that  He  might  deliver  us  from 
this  present  evil  world,  and  present  us  faultless  in 
the  Throne  Room  of  the  Eternal  God. 


CONCLUSION 


LECTURE  IX 

THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


LECTURE  IX 

THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

It  is  time  to  sum  up  our  results.  The  study  of  the 
background  has  shown  the  urgency  of  the  rehgious 
problem  in  the  time  when  Christianity  began  its 
westward  movement;  it  has  also  indicated  the  kind 
of  religion  the  age  was  prepared  to  accept. 

The  desire  for  a  right  relation  with  God  was 
the  distinctive  need  of  the  first  Christian  century ; 
and  while  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  had  sug- 
gested a  moral  ideal,  it  had  been  unable  to  furnish 
power  for  its  realisation.  The  moral  passion  of 
the  age  was  running  far  in  advance  of  its  con- 
scious capacities,  and  it  was  this  that  gave  the 
Apostles  their  peculiar  opportunity,  for  Chris- 
tianity was  the  religion  of  power.  Its  power  was 
manifested  in  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  and  the 
creation  of  the  Christian  community;  and  when 
the  intelligence  of  the  first  Christians  made  a  ra- 
tional interpretation  of  the  power  necessary,  Paul 
met  the  need  by  teaching  doctrines.  Doctrines  are 
descriptive  of  function;  they  show  tliat  God  has 
come  into  human  history  w^ith  a  special  rcdemp- 

271 


272  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

tive  purpose  in  view.  Not  only  did  Christianity 
provide  an  answer  to  the  original  question  of  safe 
conduct  in  its  great  doctrine  of  justifying  faith, 
but  it  also  furnished  assurance  of  reasonable  prog- 
ress in  holiness,  and  through  the  great  conception 
of  electing  love  promised  to  bring  the  believer 
to  the  goal  of  his  hopes.  The  net  result  of  the 
Christian  propaganda  was  to  establish  the  new 
religion  on  an  historical  basis  in  contact  with  the 
growing  intellectual  and  spiritual  requirements  of 
the  age. 

Undoubtedly  Christianity  had  a  very  practical 
significance  for  those  early  centuries.  How  great 
it  was  may  be  inferred  from  Fowler's  brilliant 
study  of  Roman  rehgious  experience.  Describing 
the  originality  of  the  new  rehgion,  when  compared 
with  competitive  forces  working  in  its  early  en- 
vironment, he  says:  "The  love  of  Christ  is  the 
entirely  new  power  that  has  come  into  the  world; 
not  merely  as  a  new  type  of  morahty,  but  as  *a 
divine  influence  transfiguring  human  nature  in  a 
universal  love.'  The  passion  of  St.  Paul's  appeal 
lies  in  the  consecration  of  every  detail  of  it  by  ref- 
erence to  the  life  and  death  of  his  JNIaster,  and  the 
great  contrast  is  for  him  not  as  with  the  Stoics, 
between  the  universal  law  of  nature  and  those  who. 
rebel  against  it;  not  as  with  Lucretius,  between 
the  blind  victims  of  'Weligio"  and  the  indefatigable 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      273 

student  of  the  rerum  natura;  not,  as  in  the  zEneid, 
between  the  man  who  bows  to  the  decrees  of  fate, 
destiny,  God,  or  whatever  w^e  choose  to  call  it, 
and  the  wilful  rebel,  victim  of  his  own  passions; 
not,  as  in  the  Roman  state  and  family,  between 
the  man  who  performs  religious  duties,  and  the 
man  who  wilfully  neglects  them — between  pins  and 
impius;  but  between  the  universal  law  of  love, 
focussed  and  concentrated  in  the  love  of  Christ, 
and  the  sleep,  the  darkness,  and  the  death  of  a 
world  that  will  not  recognise  it."  ^ 

The  contrast  is  not  relative,  but  absolute.  It 
does  not  lie  in  the  selection  of  one  among  several 
equally  available  methods  of  salvation;  but  in  a 
comparison  of  a  series  of  efforts  whose  futility  was 
clearly  realised,  and  a  dynamic,  functioning  in 
history,  and  actually  capable  of  transforming  life 
into  the  image  of  the  Divine  JNIaster. 

Admitting  the  truth  of  this  contention,  the  ques- 
tion may  be  asked:  What  has  this  to  do  with  tlie 
modern  world?  Can  we  base  our  faitli  on  the 
historic  Christ,  or  shall  we  expect  a  higher  con- 
ception to  develop?  In  other  words,  is  Christian- 
ity final,  or  do  we  look  for  another  religion? 

This  is  an  important  question,  and  its  answer 
in  part  will  depend  on  one's  attitude  towards  re- 

^  "The  Religious  Experience  of  the  Roman  People," 
p.  467. 


274  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ligious  experience.  A  man's  attitude  towards  the 
claims  of  Jesus  Christ  will  have  an  important 
bearing  on  the  interpretation  of  the  Christian  tra- 
dition. There  is  an  incommunicable  element  in 
religious  experience  that  determines  one's  view  of 
religious  truth.  The  personal  equation  will  often 
take  a  leading  part  in  historical  interpretations. 

Granting  this,  however,  the  question  as  to  the 
finality  of  Christianity  has  a  meaning  for  the  in- 
telligence. It  can  be  thought  about,  investigated, 
and  certain  features  of  the  problem  will  very  likely 
prove  decisive.  I  believe  that  if  one  is  disposed  to 
be  a  Christian,  one  may  turn  to  the  problem  as 
it  lies  in  the  field  of  history  and  reach  a  satis- 
factory conclusion  on  the  main  point ;  namely,  that 
Christianity  in  its  historic  significance  proves  it- 
self to  be  the  final  religion,  and  that  we  need  look 
for  no  higher,  since  none  other  is  needed. 

The  truth  of  this  proposition  will  become  evi- 
dent if,  after  indicating  what  man's  fundamental 
religious  needs  are  and  showing  that  the  success 
of  Christianity  in  the  early  centuries  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  it  adequately  met  those  needs,  it  can 
be  proved  that  the  modern  man  has  not  changed 
in  respect  of  his  religious  necessities,  that  he  is 
in  no  important  aspect  of  experience  different 
from  the  men  of  past  ages.  If  man's  religious 
needs  are  the  same  to-day  as  they  were  when 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


^^iO 


Christianity  began  its  westward  movement,  and  if 
Christianity  met  the  needs  of  the  man  of  the  first 
century,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  it  can- 
not meet  the  needs  of  the  man  of  the  twentieth 
century. 

Our  first  inquiry  then  is  to  determine  what  man's 
fundamental  rehgious  needs  are.  Why  is  man  a 
rehgious  being?  Why  is  it,  that  whether  we  view 
him  in  a  primitive  aspect,  or  in  a  higlily  civihsed 
state,  there  are  inevitable  resemblances  of  spirit- 
ual desires  and  aspirations? 

This  question  may  be  answered  in  two  ways; 
either  by  an  analysis  of  the  religious  consciousness, 
or  by  an  interpretation  of  the  religious  conscious- 
ness as  it  manifests  itself  on  the  field  of  history. 
This  latter  is  the  better  way,  and  the  value  of  our 
studj^  of  the  various  phases  of  the  quest  for  safe 
conduct  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  quest  indicates 
what  man's  spiritual  requirements  are.  When 
man's  need  of  God  is  so  urgent  as  to  compel  him 
to  seek  right  relations  with  Him,  we  may  easily 
discover  the  permanent  elements  of  his  reh'gious 
consciousness.  The  quest  for  safe  conduct  indi- 
cates that  these  elements  are  four:  First,  a  sense 
of  dependence  on  a  higher  power;  second,  a  feel- 
ing of  not  being  in  right  relation  to  tliis  liigher 
])ower;  third,  a  desire  to  overcome  this  feeling 
by  means  of  sacrifices  and  religious  rites;   and 


S76  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

fourth,  a  feeling  that  nothing  short  of  a  human 
life  in  God  can  adequately  satisfy  man's  desire 
for  right  relation,  which  tempts  him  to  make  God 
in  his  own  image. 

First  there  is  present  in  religious  experience 
the  sense  of  dependence  on  a  higher  power.  It 
does  not  matter  whether  the  power  is  thought  of 
as  a  person,  or  impersonal  force;  whether  it  be 
conceived  under  a  polytheistic  or  monotheistic 
form;  the  essential  point  is  that  the  sense  of  de- 
pendence is  back  of  every  religious  aspiration.  It 
was  the  sense  of  dependence  that  led  primitive 
man  to  make  the  gods  in  a  human  likeness,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  at  home  in  the  world.  It 
was  the  sense  of  dependence  that  prompted  the 
primitive  religious  endeavour. 

But  religious  effort  develops  moral  experience, 
and  its  ultimate  effect  is  an  increase  of  moral  sen- 
sibility that  introduces  a  disturbing  element  into 
the  religious  consciousness:  a  sense  of  not  being 
in  right  relation  to  the  power  manifest  in  nature. 
This  is  not  a  sense  of  sin,  or  even  of  wrong  doing, 
but  rather  of  dislocation  and  alienation.  The  sense 
of  dependence  draws  man  towards  God,  but  the 
sense  of  alienation  drives  man  from  Him.  It  fills 
him  with  a  feeling  of  unrest  and  insecurity  in  the 
presence  of  the  mysterious  Spirit  who  inhabits  the 
universe.     He  is  no  longer  at  home  in  the  world, 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      277 

and  he  becomes  aware  of  a  need  of  getting  through 
it  with  credit.  He  becomes  a  seeker  for  safe  con- 
duct. The  original  desire  of  primitive  man  for 
God  becomes  clear  and  explicit;  in  other  words 
it  seeks  to  find  an  effective  way  of  getting  into 
right  relation  with  God,  and  this  develops  a  third 
element  in  the  religious  consciousness. 

As  the  moral  sense  turns  round  upon  inherited 
traditions  it  makes  the  problem  of  safe  conduct 
a  personal  one;  it  develops  a  need  for  effective 
methods  of  propitiating  the  great  Spirit  of  the 
universe,  and  this  feeling  expresses  itself  in 
sacrifices,  rituals,  efforts  to  make  atonement — in 
short,  in  historical  manifestations  of  various  kinds. 
From  this  primitive  passion  for  an  effective  re- 
lation with  God  came  purifications,  ethical  strug- 
gles, and  religious  observances,  all  of  which  sought 
to  answer  the  question :  How  can  a  man  get  right 
with  God?  This  passion  was  responsible  for  the 
prodigal  expenditure  of  time  and  life  in  the  age- 
long endeavour  to  find  peace  with  God.  It  was 
back  of  the  noblest  ethical  speculations  of  anti- 
quity; but  as  the  moral  sense  continued  to  develop, 
the  feeling  of  alienation  increased;  and  the  need 
of  a  better  knowledge  of  God  developed  a  fourth 
element  in  the  religious  consciousness:  a  passi(^n 
for  a  human  life  in  God.  This  desire  was  not 
the  cause  of  polytheism,  but  it  was  undoubtedly 


278  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

a  contributing  influence.  The  notion  of  an  ab- 
solute and  infinite  God  was,  as  we  have  seen,  a 
very  painful  one,  when  unaided  by  a  Divine  rev- 
elation. It  almost  made  the  problem  of  right  rela- 
tion insoluble,  because  it  put  God  out  of  touch 
with  experience.  It  is  easy  then  to  understand 
why  primitive  man  broke  up  the  idea  of  infinity 
into  a  number  of  parts.  By  associating  them  for  a 
season  with  what  was  near,  local  and  familiar,  he 
seemed  to  bring  God  closer  to  human  need.  The 
tendency  to  make  God  in  the  human  likeness  was 
the  final  outworldng  of  the  religious  impulse;  but 
it  was  inevitable  that  the  gi^owing  moral  sense 
should  introduce  a  disturbing  element  into  this  re- 
lation in  spite  of  intense  efforts  to  the  contrary. 
Man  was  left  in  uncertainty,  because  there  were 
always  unknown  elements,  and  uncomprehended 
relationships ;  he  seemed  to  dwell  on  the  frontier  of 
an  unseen  world,  and  the  human  spirit,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  severe  ethical  restraints,  and  sometimes 
in  spite  of  them,  was  tempted  to  people  this  un- 
known region  with  the  creations  of  its  disor- 
dered imagination.  It  was  a  fruitful  source  of 
superstition.  The  Greeks  confessed  this  sense  of 
inadequacy  in  the  Athenian  altar  to  "Unkno^vn 
Gods."  Lucretius  regarded  the  whole  movement 
as  an  expression  of  degrading  superstition;  and 
the  first  Christian  century  felt  the  potent  spell 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      279 

of  the  unknown  in  its  fear  of  daemons  and  its 
tyranny  of  elemental  spirits. 

But  in  spite  of  its  vagaries,  the  passion  was 
the  expression  of  spiritual  need.  Man  needed  to 
find  a  human  likeness  in  God,  if  his  relation  to 
Him  was  to  prove  effective.  It  was  a  craving  for 
an  incarnation.  Man  wanted  a  Deity  whose  ad- 
vent was  not  a  chance  visit,  but  a  permanent  com- 
ing into  the  experience  and  life  of  the  world. 

These  four  elements:  the  sense  of  dependence, 
the  sense  of  alienation,  the  passion  to  atone  for 
wrongdoing,  and  the  craving  for  a  human  ex- 
pression of  Deity,  make  up  the  religious  conscious- 
ness of  mankind,  and  were  strikingly  expressed 
in  the  quest  for  safe  conduct,  which  was  the  dis- 
tinguishing feature  of  religious  experience  at  the 
time  of  the  westward  movement  of  Christianity. 

The  direct  consequence  of  that  age-long  quest 
was  to  intensify  the  need  for  a  virtue-making 
power,  and  to  make  the  question  of  a  right  relation 
witli  God  paramount.  The  problem  was  how  to 
translate  '''gnosis"  into  "dunamis"  knowledge  into 
power  and  precept  into  performance.  Tlie  best 
thinkers  of  the  age  agreed  that  human  nature 
could  not  furnish  a  moral  dynamic.  Lucretius 
and  Seneca  would  have  accepted  Paul's  (hagnosis: 
"To  will  is  present  with  me,  but  liow  to  perform 
that  which  is  trood.  T  fiiul  not."     IMaii  cnuld  not 


280  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

rise  above  this  position,  because  he  was  more  or 
less  aware  that  religious  experience  as  a  purely- 
naturalistic  affair  was  in  its  final  stage  of  evolu- 
tion. Any  further  improvement  must  come  from 
a  fresh  manifestation  of  God  in  human  history. 

Thoughtful  men  of  Paul's  age  were  keenly 
aware  of  dependence  but  they  had  little  confidence 
in  the  famihar  methods  of  adjusting  the  human 
spirit  to  the  requirements  of  the  Eternal.  And  the 
characteristic  longing  of  the  time  was  for  an  ap- 
pearance in  historic  form  of  a  personal  adjuster. 
This  feeling  became  acute  in  the  last  century  of 
the  republic.  It  was  stimulated  by  the  failure 
of  the  ancient  political  sanctions,  and  the  outbreak 
of  anarchy  and  civil  strife  developed  a  passion 
for  a  strong  man  who  could  set  the  world  right. 
This  passion  for  a  personal  force  finally  took  the 
form  of  the  worship  of  the  reigning  Emperor ;  but 
its  intensity  is  apparent  in  Virgil's  Messianic 
eclogue.  The  monotheistic  drift  of  the  times 
tended  to  give  a  spiritual  character  to  this  as- 
piration. Men  were  looking  for  **the  Still,  Strong 
Man  of  the  soul's  need."  That  is  why  Paul's 
age  was  interested  in  a  religion  of  power. 

How  then  did  Christianity  adjust  itself  to  the 
requirements  of  the  religious  consciousness?  The 
uppermost  need  of  the  times  was  for  a  righting 
power  with  God.     This  is  clear  from  that  check- 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      281 

ered  history  of  human  experience,  that  ceaseless 
conflict  of  moral  passion  and  human  perversity, 
so  impressively  described  in  the  literature  of  the 
period.  This  need  made  a  religion  of  redemption 
desirable  above  ever5i:hing  else.  JMan  wanted  a 
healer  and  a  Saviour,  rather  than  a  diagnostician 
and  a  reformer.  Above  all  he  wanted  assurance 
that  God  Himself  had  come  in  direct  contact  with 
human  need.  Nothing  short  of  an  historic  mani- 
festation could  satisfy  the  desire  for  a  human  life 
in  God.  JMan  did  not  want  a  chance  visit;  he 
wanted  God  to  come  to  stay.  What  then  had 
Christianity  to  say  to  this  imperious  need? 

If  we  have  given  a  just  account  of  the  elements 
in  man's  religious  consciousness,  it  ought  not  to 
be  difficult  to  show  how  adequately  the  new  re- 
ligion satisfied  them. 

In  the  first  place  the  need  for  a  conception  of 
God  on  Whom  one  might  depend  was  met  by  the 
revelation  of  Divine  Fatherhood.  For  centuries 
men  had  been  trying  to  formulate  this  doctrine; 
the  Stoics  were  especially  zealous  in  this  direction, 
but  they  could  never  be  assured  of  it.  AVhat  they 
really  wanted  was  a  conception  of  fatherhood 
based  on  redemption  rather  than  on  providence, 
and  this,  speculation  could  not  furnish  since  an 
historic  answer  was  required.  No  pliilosophic 
theory  of  God  can  satisf}^  human  need;  that  can 


THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

be  met  only  by  an  historical  revelation:  an  actual 
manifestation  in  human  experience,  and  this  was 
precisely  what  the  Christian  gospel  offered.  It 
revealed  Divine  Fatherhood  based  on  redemptive 
power  and  sanctioned  by  historic  performance. 
And  this  glorious  revelation  was  sustained  at  every 
point  by  the  dynamic  Personality  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  great  Spirit  of  the  Universe,  the  fundamental 
parent  source,  was  manifested  as  the  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 
Christ's  manifestation  was  the  historic  proof  of  the 
Divine  love.  His  Presence  was  evidence  of  the 
fact  that  God  was  approachable  and  trustworthy. 

The  revelation  of  Fatherhood  through  Christ 
brought  out  the  second  and  third  features  of 
Christianity  in  respect  of  man's  fundamental  re- 
ligious needs.  On  the  one  hand  the  gospel  ex- 
plained the  nature  of  the  world's  trouble;  on  the 
other  hand  it  provided  a  way  of  reconciliation. 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  sin  properly  diag- 
nosed the  world's  spiritual  distress,  yet  so  far 
from  producing  discouragement,  as  lesser  investi- 
gations usually  did,  it  always  made  the  diagnosis 
in  connection  with  the  offer  of  pardon.  The  sacri- 
ficial death  of  the  Saviour  was  the  basis  for  faith 
in  the  righting  power  of  God.  Salvation  was  not 
suspended  on  a  bare  word  of  forgiveness,  but  was 
made  as  realistic  in  its  redemptive  aspect,  as  was 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      28S 

the  sense  of  sin  and  need ;  because  behind  pardon- 
ing love  was  the  historic  deed  of  the  cross,  and 
the  issue  of  tliis  was  a  justifying  grace  which  gave 
the  sinner  a  status  with  the  Most  High  God  which 
none  could  dispute.  The  cross  of  Clirist  forever 
settled  the  question  of  adjustment.  It  was  the 
end  of  the  quest  for  safe  conduct. 

But  God's  grace  did  sometliing  more  than  this. 
Not  only  did  it  justify  the  sinner  but  it  also 
adopted  him  into  the  Divine  family;  and  through 
the  renewing  and  transforming  energies  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  made  progress  in  holiness  possible, 
even  in  the  face  of  the  opposition  of  the  flesh,  and 
the  increasing  complications  of  life.  And  back  of 
the   several   stages    of  this    experience   was   the 

r  Divine  purpose,  which  convinced  man  that  God 

I  had  come  into  human  life  to  stay. 

I  And  this  satisfied  the  fourth  element  of  spiritual 
desire,  namely  the  hunger  for  a  human  life  in 
God.     The  incarnation  of  God  in  Christ  proved 

:  the  truth  of  the  gospel;  it  was  evidence  that  the 

i  Eternal  God  had  come  into  man's  life  as  an  abid- 
ing power ;  and  the  experience  of  the  first  cen- 
tury, the  creation  of  the  Christian  community — 

I  the  purity  of  its  life  and  fidelity  of  its  testimony 
under  manifold  trials  and  temptations — shows  bet- 

I  ter  than  anything  in  that  age,  the  effectiveness  of 

I  the  new  rehgion.     Christianity  began  in  liistory, 


«84>  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

it  made  history,  and  it  promised  historic  fruits 
in  the  future.  All  that  had  been  dimly  discerned 
or  consciously  realised  of  human  need  in  the  age- 
long quest  for  safe  conduct  was  adequately  ful- 
filled in  Jesus  Christ.  The  coming  of  the  Saviour 
was  a  fresh  beginning  in  the  history  of  the  race. 

Christ  is  related  to  man's  spiritual  needs  as  food 
is  to  appetite.  Truly  He  is  the  bread  of  life.  All 
that  was  needed  to  estabish  a  new  life,  or  a  new 
creation  as  Paul  called  it,  was  to  bring  man's 
spiritual  appetites  into  relation  with  Jesus.  This 
was  accomplished  in  the  first  century,  and  de- 
veloped an  experience  which  neither  the  demands 
of  intelligence  nor  the  growing  opposition  of  the 
world  could  falsify  or  destroy.  So  far  then  as 
the  first  century  was  concerned,  viewed  as  having 
desires  and  passions  that  were  common  to  pre- 
ceding centuries,  Christianity  was  adequate,  and 
as  such  was  the  final  religion. 

And  it  is  the  final  religion  for  us,  unless  it  can 
be  shown  that  the  spiritual  needs  of  mankind  have 
changed  since  those  days.  If  the  religion  of  the 
New  Testament  was  adequate  for  the  first  cen- 
tury, it  is  adequate  for  the  twentieth  century,  un- 
less it  can  be  proved  that  man's  religious  requii-e- 
ments  have  been  altered  by  the  progress  of  civi- 
lisation. 

There    is    a    general    impression    manifest   in 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      285 

modern  opinion  and  behaviour  that  would  lead 
one  to  suppose  that  man's  spiritual  requirements 
are  different  from  those  of  the  past  ages ;  and  that 
if  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  the  modern  man  has 
outgrown  Christianity,  at  least  it  can  be  said  that 
'he  can  afford  to  reject  or  modify  much  that  was 
of  value  to  past  centuries.    Two  things,  however, 
imust  be  distinguished:  The  attitude  towards  the 
I  fundamental  liistorical  significance  of  Christianity 
is  one  thing;  the  attitude  towards  theological  in- 
iterpretations   and   systems  of  later  centuries   is 
;  quite  another  thing.    Every  thoughtful  man  must 
(interpret  truth  in  terms  that  he  can  understand. 
j  Every  age  has  its  own  way  of  thinking  about  ulti- 
tmate  questions;  and  the  disposition  to  think  of 
f  Christianity  in  present   day  concepts  need   not 
^ necessarily  lead  to  the  rejection  of,  or  indifference 
to,  fundamental  historical  revelations.     Few  men 
are  capable  of  holding  a  complete  system  of  re- 
ligious truth;  the  best  most  of  them  can  do  is  to 
have   a  few   first   class   convictions   on   essential 
■points;  and  assuredly  we  cannot  make  the  undcr- 
:standing  and  acceptance  of  great  theological  sys- 
items  the  condition  of  a  valid  faith  in  the  liistoric 
facts  of  Christianity. 

But  unfortunately  the  modern  man  imagines 
jthat  because  he  can  neither  understand  nor  hold 
complete  and  systematic  views  of  religion,  he  must 


286  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

necessarily  reject  or  be  indifferent  to  the  funda- 
mental historic  significance  of  Christianity  as  it 
is  revealed  in  the  New  Testament.  He  becomes  a 
religious  impressionist,  selecting  what  he  likes  and 
rejecting  what  he  disHkes,  and  justifies  this  course, 
when  he  thinks  of  it  at  all,  on  the  ground  that  some- 
how he  has  attained  to  such  a  pitch  of  develop- 
ment that  he  no  longer  needs  the  stabilising  influ- 
ence of  the  great  past;  and  this  tendency  is  the 
result  of  the  pecuhar  temperament  of  the  modem 
world. 

For  the  past  four  hundred  years  the  world  has 
been  steadily  drifting  away  from  a  spiritual  view 
of  hfe.  The  renaissance  has  been  the  decisive 
factor  in  modern  civilisation.  The  revival  of  learn- 
ing has  had  a  larger  influence  on  modem  opinion 
than  the  Protestant  reformation ;  in  fact  the  union 
of  the  Protestant  principle  of  the  right  of  private 
judgment  with  the  freedom  of  the  renaissance  is 
responsible  for  present  day  indifference  to  all 
forms  of  authority;  for  the  popular  contempt  of 
the  great  past,  and  particularly  for  the  vitiated 
notion  of  truth  which  identifies  reality  with  con- 
sequences, and  makes  every  man  the  arbiter  of 
his  own  destiny.  The  unregulated  individualism 
of  the  modern  world  is  a  symptom  of  a  deeper 
thing — of  an  altered  conception  of  values. 

This  altered   conception  of  values  is  directly 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY     287 

traceable  to  the  age  of  humanism.     The  renais- 
,  sance  was  the  rebirth  of  man.    It  was  man's  fresh 
discovery  of  himself,  it  was  also  his  fresh  discovery 
of  this  world.     The  past  centuries  had  for  the 
most  part  been  God-centred ;  succeeding  centuries 
have  very  largely  been  man-centred.    Religion  was 
the  all  but  exclusive  interest  of  the  world  before 
the  revival  of  learning;  it  cannot  be  maintained 
that  it  has  been  the  predominant  interest  since. 
Before  the  renaissance  man's  chief  concern  was 
safe  conduct.    He  did  not  feel  altogether  comfort- 
able in  this  world;  there  were  elements  in  his  ex- 
j  perience  that  reminded  him  that  he  was  a  stranger 
I  and  a  pilgrim,  and  the  interests  of  the  soul  were 
paramount.     Since  the  renaissance  man  has  suc- 
ceeded in  making  himself  fairly  well  at  home  in 
j  this  world.    Prior  to  the  revival  of  learning  man 
was  dominated  by  the  Hebrew  ideal  of  religious 
exclusiveness :  religion  was  his  chief  concern,  and 
I  his  business  not  so  much  to  be  at  home  in  the 
,,  world  as  to  get  through  it  with  credit;  the  era 
I  since  the  renaissance  has  been  dominated  by  the 
Greek  spirit  of  humanism.    In  the  former  case  the 
j  ideal  of  the  chief  good  was  one  and  simple:  to 
enjoy  the  favour  of  God  was  the  supreme  good; 
in  the  latter  case  the  ideal  of  the  chief  good  is 
i|  once  more  composite.     Religion  was  still  im]K)r- 
1  tant,  but  other  things  such  as  science,  aj-t,  htera- 


288  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ture,  philosophy,  politics,  worldly  position,  in  one 
word  civilisation,  were  equally  important.  In  the 
first  instance  the  world  was  dominated  by  the 
Hebrew  ideal  of  the  safe  life;  in  the  second  in- 
stance by  the  Greek  ideal  of  the  complete  life. 

The  element  of  wonder  which  in  past  ages  used 
to  illuminate  the  religious  experience,  has  for  more 
than  four  hundred  years  increasingly  centred  it- 
self on  man:  on  his  doings  and  misdoings,  his 
inventions  and  discoveries;  his  achievements  and 
attainments;  until  it  may  be  said  of  the  modern 
what  Carlyle  said  of  the  Greek,  that  ''he  is  far 
more  at  home  in  Zion  than  he  has  any  right  to 
be." 

The  modern  man  has  become  so  accustomed  to 
the  development  and  enjoyment  of  the  material 
estate  that  he  has  forgotten  his  real  relation  to  it. 
He  is  in  reality  a  tenant,  but  he  acts  as  if  he  owned 
it.  His  tenancy  is  limited  at  that,  and  in  spite 
of  his  deep  satisfaction  with  this  present  world, 
he  is  just  as  much  a  stranger  and  pilgrim  as  were 
his  ancestors,  only  he  does  not  know  it — yet.  To 
one  who  takes  a  long  view  of  life  there  is  some- 
thing profoundly  pathetic  in  the  present  day  com- 
placency. One  hundred  years  hence  all  that  will 
be  left  of  this  proud  complex  of  material  posses- 
sion and  restless  desire,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned, 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      289 

will  be  a  number  of  spiritual  entities  we  call  souls 
face  to  face  with  the  eternal  God. 

The  present  age  differs  in  many  important  par- 
ticulars from  past  ages,  but  the  diff*erence  is  not 
so  great  as  some  suppose.  In  science  and  inven- 
tion, in  the  exploitation  and  development  of  the 
material  estate,  and  in  the  cultivation  of  its  pro- 
ductive resources  the  age  excels  all  past  times. 
But  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  our  intellectual 
and  moral  progress  has  kept  pace  with  material 
development.  Our  distinctive  achievements  be- 
long to  the  externals  of  life ;  they  do  not  materially 
alter  the  inner  constitution  of  mankind.  The 
things  that  make  for  the  cultivation  of  the  mind 
and  spirit  are  inherited  from  the  past.  We  still 
go  to  Greece  for  the  best  philosophy ;  to  Rome  for 
our  laws,  and  to  the  renaissance  for  our  artistic 
and  literary  ideals;  and  apart  from  scientific  and 
material  achievements,  everything  we  have  of  re- 
ligion, culture,  and  civilisation  came  from  the  past. 
The  modem  world  is  penny-wise-and-pound-fool- 
ish.  It  ranks  the  achievements  of  civilisation  above 
the  transforming  power  of  true  religion,  because 
its  interest  is  chiefly  in  this  world.  But  civilisa- 
tion is  not  the  same  thing  as  progress.  Civilisa- 
tion deals  with  the  externals  of  life,  but  no  more 
alters  the  inner  constitution  of  human  nature  than 
clothes  can  transform  character.    Still  the  modern 


290  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

man  imagines  that  because  he  is  successful  in  the 
control  of  material  forces,  he  must  have  outgrown 
the  needs  of  past  ages;  and  nowhere  is  this  delu- 
sion more  common  than  in  current  opinions  on 
religion. 

Socrates  used  to  say  of  the  craftsmen  of  his 
day  that  "they  did  as  a  rule  know  something 
about  their  ow^n  trades,  but  unfortunately  on  the 
strength  of  this  bit  of  knowledge,  they  fancied  that 
they  knew  a  great  many  other  things  of  which 
they  were  ignorant,  such,  for  instance,  as  how  to 
govern  an  empire."  ^  And  many  a  modern  thinks 
that  because  he  can  make  a  tin  can  better  than  his 
neighbour,  he  is  capable  of  settling  the  affairs  of 
the  universe.  The  church  today  is  suffering  from 
lay  exploitation ;  from  the  irresponsible  attentions 
of  many  whose  only  claim  to  notice  is  that  they 
have  made  a  success  in  a  material  direction.  Such 
men  never  suspect  their  fallibility ;  neither  do  they 
question  their  attitude  towards  religion.  They  act 
as  if  somehow  their  fundamental  spiritual  needs 
were  different  from  those  of  past  ages,  and  en- 
deavour to  begin  the  religious  experience  de  novo, 
without  the  regulative  influence  of  the  great  past. 
The  age  is  suffering  from  what  Hugh  Black  calls 
"um-egulated  idealism."    It  is  passionate,  hopeful, 

^Burnet:  "Greek  Philosophy  from  Thales  to  Plato," 
p.  136. 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      291 

enthusiastic — fine  qualities  in  any  age;  but  it  is 
singularly  lacking  in  straightforward  common 
sense  views  of  human  nature.  Tliis  peculiar  tem- 
perament usually  issues  in  a  demand,  if  not  for  a 
new  religion,  at  least  for  a  Christianity  modified  to 
suit  the  requirements  of  an  augmented  sense  of 
personal  importance.  The  old-fashioned  man  was 
content  to  remain  subordinate  to  God;  the  man  of 
the  present  day  desires  an  equal  partnership.  With 
one  religion  means  the  service  of  God  by  man; 
with  the  other  the  service  of  man  by  God.  And 
the  difference  at  bottom  is  one  of  values.  One 
derives  his  notion  of  value  from  his  relation  to 
God;  the  other  values  God  in  relation  to  human 
enterprises. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  this  question.    Pres- 
ent day  society  is  becoming  aware  of  instabihty 
in  spiritual  matters.   The  century  that  has  excelled 
past  ages  in  the  realisation  of  material  desires, 
is  distinguished  by  a  soul  discomfort  that  is  al- 
most as  acute  as  that  of  the  first  century.    Tliere 
is  a  feeling  of  unrest  abroad.    The  discontents  of 
today  are  not  those  of  poverty  but  of  prosperity. 
jThe  discontents  of  prosperity  are  spiritual.  jNIany 
[are  becoming  aware  of  the  futility  of  success,  of 
I  the  emptiness  of  material  possessions;  full  barns 
;  do  not  always  make  peaceful  minds;  and  tluMv  is 
a    soul   hunger    abroad    whicli    notliing    tangil)Ie 


THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

seems  to  satisfy.  The  truth  is  the  modern  world 
is  beginning  to  feel  the  need  for  safe  conduct.  A 
dim  sense  of  a  pilgrimage  is  coming  in  to  disturb 
material  contentment,  and  the  modern  man  is  not 
so  much  at  home  in  the  world  as  he  used  to  be. 

This  unrest,  offspring  of  spiritual  distress,  al- 
though vague  and  inchoate,  is  still  insistent  in  its 
attitude  towards  certain  things.  For  many  years 
the  modem  man  has  been  very  impatient  with 
theology ;  it  is  now  evident  that  he  is  beginning  to 
be  dissatisfied  with  philosophy;  else  how  account 
for  the  popularity  of  such  anti-intellectual  notions 
as  those  of  Eucken,  Bergson  and  William  James? 
How  shall  we  explain  the  vogue  of  conceptions 
which  set  aside  the  intellect  in  favour  of  blind  in- 
stinct or  make  the  sole  test  of  truth  a  conformity 
with  immediate  desires,  except  on  the  assumption 
that  the  modern  man  is  beginning  to  realise  the 
need  for  peace,  and  is  in  a  special  hurry  to  get  it? 

And  in  the  wild  riot  of  rehgious  congresses, 
mass  movements,  sociological  pilgrimages,  vice 
crusades  and  revivals  which  have  distinguished  the 
modern  world  in  recent  years,  two  things  are  clear: 
the  modern  man  is  very  indifferent  to  guiding 
principles,  and  tremendously  in  love  with  power. 

The  religious  experience  of  the  average  man  is 
for  the  most  part  made  up  of  impressions  and 
impulses,  more  or  less  influenced  by  mass  move- 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      293 

merits,  the  meaning  of  which  he  does  not  under- 
stand, simply  because  he  will  not  take  the  time  to 
think  them  out.  Up  to  recent  times  he  did  not 
believe  it  necessary;  but  signs  are  not  wanting  to 
show  that  he  is  beginning  to  think  seriously  about 
them.  lie  is  as  impatient  as  ever  with  abstract 
explanations,  but  he  would  like  plain  answers  to 
such  questions  as  God,  the  soul  and  immortality; 
and  in  so  far  as  he  is  conscious  of  having  definite 
needs,  he  would  like  to  know  something  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  the  way  of  salvation.  In  the  main  he 
lacks  convictions,  but  at  least  he  knows  the  need 
and  the  desirability  of  power. 

The  want  of  power  in  the  higher  phases  of  ex- 
perience is  the  most  characteristic  sign  of  the 
times.  INIan's  conspicuous  successes  in  a  material 
direction  have  served  to  convince  Imn  of  the  lack 
of  power  in  the  domain  of  the  spirit.  He  sees 
power  functioning  in  visible  efficiency  and  in 
world  civilisation.  It  is  the  magic  word  in  busi- 
ness. And  he  demands  it  in  religion  because  it 
is  in  spiritual  matters  that  he  feels  the  lack  of  it. 
He  often  looks  for  it  in  the  wrong  place;  lie  is 
more  interested  in  quantitative  manifestations  than 
in  invisible  and  spiritual  expressions.  Still  the 
impressive  feature  of  the  present  situation  is  that 
many  are  in  quest  of  spiritual  power:  some  from 
egoistic  and  others  from  altruistic  motives. 


S94  THE  llEIJGION  OF  POWER 

The  egoistic  manifestation  is  seen  in  the  syn- 
cretic tendency  wliieh  mixes  liistorical  Cln-istianity 
with  other  elements:  sueli  for  example  as  Chris- 
tian Science  and  tlie  New  Thought  cults.  Man's 
complex  needs  temi)t  him  to  look  for  complex 
remedies.  As  much  as  he  desires  simplicity  he 
finds  it  diflicult  to  trust  it  in  the  religious  world. 
This  is  a  revival  in  a  somewhat  different  form  of 
the  old  ascetic  im])ulse.  In  ancient  times  many 
sought  to  escape  the  opposition  of  the  world  by 
selfish  seclusifm,  "far  from  the  madding  crowd"; 
in  these  days  many  try  to  escape  the  reality  of 
life,  by  lleeing  to  these  syncretic  cults,  and  by 
surrounding  themselves  with  a  cloud  of  misty  con- 
ceptions, thirdc  themselves  free  of  the  world's  dis- 
tress. But  this  is  a  ])assing  phase.  There  is 
no  enduring  power  in  the  unreality  of  mental  an- 
aesthesia. No  religious  enterprise  founded  on  sel- 
fishness can  last,  and  when  conscience  awakes  it 
will  make  short  work  of  these  futile  delusions. 

The.  altruistic  quest  for  power  is  manifest  in 
the  social  passion  of  the  time.  This  is  a  noble 
enterprise,  inspired  by  a  desire  to  humanise  social 
relations  and  moralise  the  forces  that  are  respon- 
sible for  much  of  present  day  misery.  So  far 
from  being  selfish,  the  social  passion  is  the  expres- 
sion of  self-sacrifice,  and  is  worthy  of  all  com- 
mendation.   Only  it  frequently  makes  the  mistake 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY     295 

of  dealing  with  effects  rather  than  causes;  is  too 
much  interested  in  a  study  of  symptoms  and  not 
enough  concerned  with  remedies.  Undoubtedly 
the  social  passion  is  a  by-product  of  Christianity, 
but  at  present  it  has  all  the  defects  of  a  movement 
led  by  novices,  rich  in  idealism,  but  poor  in  ideas ; 
and  serious  minds  are  beginning  to  realise  that 
there  is  something  wrong  with  the  social  pro- 
gramme. In  spite  of  the  best  intentions  it  re- 
mains a  programme;  it  lacks  power,  and  many 
are  becoming  aware  of  the  need  of  a  personal 
relation  to  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  sole  condition  of 
success  in  the  social  enterprise.  The  social  needs 
of  the  age  offer  a  very  fruitful  field  for  work, 
but  the  social  passion  is  not  a  dynamic.  That 
must  be  looked  for  in  another  region  entirely. 

Where  shall  man  look  for  power?  What 
can  give  him  a  dynamic  relationship  with  the  eter- 
nal God?  Obviously  he  cannot  hope  to  get  it 
from  modern  philosophy,  for  apart  from  such 
frankly  anti-intellectual  attempts  as  those  of  Berg- 
son  and  Eucken,  there  is  little  left  but  speculations 
concerning  the  problem  of  knowledge,  and  tlie 
capacities  or  limitations  of  the  mind.  Present  day 
philosophy  rarely  touches  the  problem  of  reality, 
save  in  the  interests  of  an  unstable  materialism. 
And  even  though  it  attempt  to  deal  witli  reality 


296  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

in  a  spiritual  way,  it  is  never  concrete ;  it  is  always 
above  the  comprehension  of  the  plain  man. 

And  if  one  turn  to  ancient  systems,  which,  of 
course,  means  Greek  philosophy,  one  will  learn  as 
Burnet  truly  observes  that  "Greek  philosophy  is 
based  on  the  faith  that  reality  is  divine,  and  that 
the  one  thing  needful  is  for  the  soul,  which  is  akin 
to  the  divine,  to  enter  into  communion  with  it.  It 
was  in  truth  an  effort  to  satisfy  what  we  call  the 
religious  instinct."  ^  In  other  words  Greek  phi- 
losophy will  teach  us  that  our  needs  are  spiritual, 
but  the  fact  that  the  quest  for  safe  conduct  led 
into  a  blind  alley  is  a  demonstration  of  the  futihty 
of  philosophy  to  satisfy  them.  Philosophy  is  a 
good  mental  disciphne  but  it  cannot  set  us  right 
on  such  a  question;  its  best  service  is  to  convince 
us  that  we  have  gone  wrong.  Philosophy  is  a 
barometer,  and  man  needs  a  compass.  It  can  warn 
us  of  weather  changes,  but  it  cannot  direct  our 
course.  The  Greeks  went  as  far  as  possible  in 
the  direction  of  God;  modem  philosophy  has  not 
advanced  a  step  beyond  them;  and  it  is  probably 
too  late  in  the  day  to  expect  any  help  from  this 
source. 

One  can  get  even  less  help  from  science,  for 
science  is  exclusively  interested  in  phenomena; 
it  has  no  jurisdiction  over  the  religious  aspect  of 

2  Op.  Cit.,  p.  12. 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY     297 

life,  because  it  cannot  enter,  as  science,  into  the 
noumenal  world.  At  best  we  must  agi-ee  with 
Paulsen  when  he  says  that  * 'whatever  temple 
science  may  build  there  will  always  need  to  be 
hard  by  a  Gotliic  chapel  for  wounded  souls."  * 

Man's  wounded  spirit  is  in  quest  of  this  Gothic 
chapel.  He  will  not  find  it  in  the  domain  of 
science;  neither  will  he  long  trust  himself  to  the 
half-and-half  schemes  that  go  by  the  name  of 
"vitalism,"  "creative  evolution,"  or  "pragmatism"; 
and  there  seems  nothing  left  but  to  re-examine  his 
fundamental  spiritual  requirements  and  see  if 
after  all  he  cannot  find  an  adequate  solution  in 
historic  Christianity. 

The  religious  needs  of  the  modern  man  differ 
in  no  important  particular  from  those  of  past 
generations.  Under  all  the  mutations  of  life  and 
variations  of  culture  he  remains  just  man.  There 
has  been  no  essential  change  in  the  inner  constitu- 
tion of  man.  He  has  the  same  imperious  sense  of 
dependence  on  the  power  manifest  in  the  universe ; 
the  same  feeling  of  not  being  in  riglit  relation  to 
this  power;  the  same  dominant  passion  to  find  a 
righting  power  in  some  form  of  ethical  struggle, 
and  the  same  intense  longing  for  a  human  life  in 
God,  which  characterised  past  ages.  If  we  frankly 
admit  these  things  we  shall  be  able  to  see  how 

*  "Ethics,"  p.  162. 


298  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

man's  fundamental  religious  needs  are  satisfied 
by  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  modern  passion  for  power  in  life  ought  to 
enable  us  to  understand  the  originahty  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  the  religion  of  power,  of  historic 
events  and  spiritual  performances,  because  it  re- 
veals the  truth  that  God  Himself  has  entered 
man's  experience  with  a  special  redemptive  pur- 
pose in  view.  Jesus  Christ  is  a  supernatuTal 
Person,  whose  power  is  shown  in  the  creation  of 
a  new  life  and  the  evolution  of  a  community  of 
representative  persons;  and  this  power,  working 
through  the  gospel,  becomes  intelligible  when  we 
understand  some  of  its  functions.  Herein  lies,  I 
think,  the  immediate  significance  of  Christian  doc- 
trine. Undoubtedly  the  doctrines  of  Christianity 
are  revelations  of  objective  truth,  but  they  are 
also  descriptions  of  function ;  they  tell  us  how  the 
divine  power  is  working  in  individual  experience. 

What  is  needed  is  a  better  understanding  of 
the  functional  significance  of  Christian  po^ver. 
How  does  the  power  of  Christ  connect  with  hu- 
man desire?  The  connection  is  made  by  faith. 
Christianity  is  the  religion  of  grace,  because  it 
suspends  the  futile  struggle  to  attain  salvation  on 
the  basis  of  human  merit  and  freely  bestows  it 
through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  gift  of 
salvation    is    communicated    to    the    individual 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      299 

through  faith.  Where  there  is  faith  there  is 
power.  Faith  is  the  whole  nature  of  man  coming 
into  contact  with  the  whole  nature  of  God.  Faith 
in  Christ  means  union  with  the  life  and  power  of 
Christ.    There  are  three  elements  in  it. 

First  there  is  the  element  of  intellectual  recep- 
tivity: a  willingness  to  assent  to  religious  truth 
on  testimony  of  others.  Of  course  we  are  obliged 
to  receive  our  information  concerning  the  Saviour 
from  others.  In  part  it  comes  from  the  revela- 
tion of  the  ISTew  Testament,  and  in  part  from  the 
force  imparted  to  this  revelation  by  the  life  and 
example  of  Christians.  The  facts  of  Cliristianity 
are  of  such  a  nature  as  powerfully  to  impress  a 
receptive  mind  with  their  truth  and  importance. 

But  all  these  facts  centre  in  a  Person.  The 
facts  and  truths  of  religion  exist  in  order  to  the 
revelation  of  a  Personal  Saviour;  and  from  intel- 
lectual receptivity  there  develops  the  disposition 
to  trust  oneself  to  the  power  of  Jesus  Christ.  It 
is  impossible  to  contemplate  His  perfect  life,  to 
consider  the  unique  character  of  His  moral  con- 
sciousness, and,  above  all,  to  open  the  soul  to  tlie 
healing  power  of  His  sacrificial  death,  without 
feeling  that  here  in  human  history  is  the  end  of  all 
spiritual  quests.  The  sense  of  alienation  from 
God,  the  feeling  of  confusion  about  our  relations 
to  the  Infinite  and  Eternal,  end  with  our  accei)t- 


800  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

ance  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  love  persons,  we  trust 
persons,  and  we  believe  in  persons.  Christianity 
is  the  religion  of  a  Person,  and  trust  is  the  putting 
of  the  life  with  all  its  past,  present  and  future 
needs  into  the  hands  of  the  Son  of  God. 

But  there  inevitably  arises  from  the  disposition 
to  trust  a  third  element,  a  willingness  to  accept 
the  authority  of  CMst  as  the  law  of  life  and  con- 
duet.  Faith  is  the  consent  of  the  will  to  Christ 
as  Master  and  Lord.  It  is  the  deliberate  accept- 
ance of  His  personal  dominion  over  life;  and  the 
natural  expression,  of  course,  is  obedience.  The 
man  of  faith  does  not  stop  with  imitating  Christ; 
he  obeys  Him,  and  he  believes  in  His  authority 
for  the  sake  of  those  aspects  of  His  personality, 
which  man  cannot  imitate. 

These  elements  of  belief,  trust  and  obedience 
are  always  present  in  the  act  of  faith;  but  they 
are  not  necessarily  distinct  in  operation.  Faith 
itself  is  one  and  simple ;  it  unites  man's  fundamen- 
tal needs  to  the  purpose  of  God  in  Christ  in  such 
a  way  as  to  make  the  divine  power  effective  in  the 
individual  experience. 

And  it  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  can 
realise  the  finality  of  Christianity.  Man  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  believes  in  power;  the 
modern  world  appreciates  power  in  all  directions, 
notably  in  the  spiritual  realm.     But  power  is 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY     301 

causal;  it  works  in  liistory  and  produces  events. 
The  supreme  evidence  of  divine  power  in  this 
world  lies  in  the  historic  significance  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  that  power  is  communicated  through  faith 
in  the  gospel,  and  works  itself  out  in  vivid  expres- 
sions of  peace,  purity  and  freedom  in  individual 
life.  Wliat  more  then  can  we  want  of  finality  than 
this?  If  our  needs  are  the  same  as  those  of  past 
ages,  and  the  gospel  is  the  same  historically,  what 
more  can  we  require  than  a  revival  of  faith  in  this 
historic  dynamic? 

The  supreme  need  of  the  time  is  a  disposition 
to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ.  The  only  practical 
way  of  testing  the  efficiency  of  Christianity  is 
to  try  it.  If  we  defer  belief  until  we  have  sci- 
entific certainty  of  the  truth  of  all  its  propo- 
sitions, we  shall  of  course  remain  unbelievers.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  however,  we  recognise  the  fact 
that  Christianity  appeals  to  the  whole  man,  not 
simply  to  his  intelligence  but  also  to  the  heart 
and  the  will,  then  we  shall  be  disposed  to  act  as 
if  it  were  true,  and  the  result  will  be  the  convic- 
tion that  it  is  true.  The  real  question,  after  all, 
is  as  Browning  puts  it: 

"  *\Vhat  think  ye  of  Christ/  friend?  when  all's  done  and  said. 
Like  you  this  Christianity  or  not? 
It  may  be  false,  but  will  you  wish  it  true? 
Has  it  your  vote  to  be  so,  if  it  can?"  ° 

**  "Bishop  Blougram's  Apology." 


302  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

The  New  Testament  is  full  of  such  appeals. 
Faith  begins  with  the  willingness  to  venture  on 
Christ's  bare  word.  Consent  with  the  will  and 
you  will  be  able  to  assent  with  the  mind.  Truth 
and  obedience  walk  together,  and  the  fruit  of  both 
is  trust.  The  man  who  is  willing  to  act  as  if 
historic  Christianity  were  true  will  be  able  eventu- 
ally to  appeal  to  the  facts  of  his  life  against  what- 
ever objections  of  a  speculative  kind  that  may  be 
urged  against  it,  because  the  disposition  to  obey 
Christ  always  enlarges  the  experience  that  faith 
begins.  Religious  experience  has  two  sides;  it 
is  partly  human  and  partly  divine.  The  human 
aspect  is  concerned  with  facts,  beliefs,  and  actions, 
with  developed  principles  and  convictions.  The 
divine  aspect  has  to  do  with  a  regenerating  dy- 
namic, working  into  our  lives,  beneath  the  thresh- 
old of  consciousness,  certain  spiritual  potencies. 
The  problem  of  rehgious  growth  turns  on  how  re- 
ligious beliefs  are  to  be  related  to  these  sub-con- 
scious potencies  in  such  a  way  as  to  develop  them 
into  conscious  activities.  We  make  this  important 
connection  through  faith.  We  assent  to  certain 
religious  truths,  we  begin  religious  experience  by 
consenting  to  act  on  them,  and  obedience  calls  up 
the  divinely  given  potencies  from  below  the  thresh- 
old of  consciousness,  and  they  become  conscious 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY     303 

energies  expressing  themselves  in  character  and 
behaviour. 

Such  is  the  simple  but  effective  way  one  may 
become  experimentally  acquainted  with  the  Di- 
vine Reality  which  has  been  the  object  of  every 
religious  quest,  and  which  in  the  dynamic  Person- 
ality of  Jesus  Chi'ist  has  adequately  and  finally 
made  known  its  redemptive  significance  to  a  world 
in  need  of  peace. 

The  conclusion  to  which  I  wish  this  book  to 
point  concerns  itself  with  the  present  duty  of  the 
Christian  Church.  That  duty  I  conceive  to  be  a 
very  simple  one.  The  modern  church  has  many 
opportunities  of  directing  and  controlHng  the  by- 
products of  Christianity;  it  is  important  that  it 
endeavour  to  understand  what  these  opportunities 
are  and  do  its  full  share  in  their  realisation;  but 
it  must  not  allow  itself  to  be  diverted  from  its 
main  business;  neither  must  it  permit  this  age 
to  forget  what  that  business  is.  The  fundamental 
duty  of  the  Church  is  an  adequate  presentation 
of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Unquestionably 
an  adequate  presentation  would  include  its  appli- 
cation to  the  social  problems  of  the  age ;  but  there 
is  a  deeper  aspect,  fundamental  to  all  the  rest.  I 
mean  its  dynamic  significance.  The  present  age 
is  intensely  interested  in  power;  it  sees  power 
working  in  visible  ways.     It  will  eagerly  believe 


304  THE  RELIGION  OF  POWER 

in  spiritual  power  when  it  finds  the  church  actively 
engaged  in  a  passionate  advocacy  of  the  claims 
of  Jesus  Christ.  The  time  is  sick  of  judges  and 
amiable  religious  philosophers,  and  is  eager  for 
the  voice  of  the  advocate.  The  gospel  must  be 
preached  with  a  tremendous  confidence  in  its  effi- 
ciency and  finality,  but  in  order  to  do  this  we  must 
know  what  the  gospel  is.  Especially  must  we  ap- 
preciate its  causal  significance.  The  church  must 
instruct  its  members  in  the  functional  aspect  of 
doctrines;  it  must  explain  the  operation  of  the 
Christian  dynamic  in  such  a  way  as  to  put  behind 
the  faith  of  the  individual  the  courage  of  rich  and 
deep  conviction.  Our  business  in  this  life  is  not 
simply  to  hold  or  enjoy  a  faith,  but  to  propagate 
a  faith;  and  faith  can  be  propagated  only  when  it 
is  supported  by  ideas.  The  ideas  of  faith  are 
expressed  in  its  doctrines,  the  functional  inter- 
pretations of  the  historic  power  in  which  faith 
centres.  Ideas  are  the  hooks  of  faith  which  at- 
tach themselves  to  the  world's  intelligence;  they 
are  the  barbs  of  faith  which  goad  the  world  to- 
wards a  spiritual  experience.  We  need  a  revival 
of  the  sort  of  radical  thinking  that  goes  down 
to  the  roots;  and  the  deeper  one  goes  into  human 
history  the  profounder  grows  the  conviction  of 
the  reality  of  Christianity.  The  weakness  of 
present  day  religion  lies  in  superficial  opinions ;  its 


THE  FINALITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY      305 

real  strength  is  in  deep  convictions ;  but  deep  con- 
victions are  impossible  without  root  thinking,  and 
root  thinking  is  radical  tliinking  in  the  best  sense 
of  that  term. 

Clii'istianity  was  conceived  in  the  open — the 
thing  was  not  done  in  a  corner — and  the  church 
has  nothing  to  fear  from  honest  investigation.  On 
the  contrary,  it  must  answer  the  characteristic  de- 
mand of  the  age  for  evidence  of  its  dynamic  sig- 
nificance, and  tliat  answer  I  believe  hes  in  an 
adequate  presentation  of  historic  Christianity. 

The  twentieth  century  is  as  ready  for  a  gospel 
of  power  as  the  first  century  was;  and  when  we 
advocate  that  gospel  with  the  intellectual  vigour, 
passionate  conviction  and  constructive  energy 
which  characterised  that  age;  when  we  can  give 
convincing  evidence  of  its  power  in  our  own  ex- 
perience; above  all,  when  we  can  prove  the  loy- 
alty of  our  lives  to  the  Lord  of  Glory  by  an 
enthusiastic  personal  service  of  the  world's  spir- 
itual needs,  we  shall  again  see  the  Christian  Dy- 
namic functioning  in  history,  as  it  did  when  first 
it  illuminated  the  darkness  and  transformed  the 
life  of  the  ancient  world. 


INDEX 


7..S', 


f 


INDEX 


Abelard,  218. 

Abraham,  covenant  with,  264. 

Adam,  on  conflict  between 
orthodoxy  and  dissent,  83-83; 
translation  of  hymn  of 
Cleanthes,  107,  245. 

Adjustment,  desire  for,  226, 
228;  method  of,  170-171,  201; 
need  of,  141-142,  147,  201. 

Adoption,  244. 

iEschylus,  purifies  religious 
idealism,  83. 

Age,  evils  of,  179;  Lucretius' 
criticism  of,  122;  moral  pas- 
sion of,  141 ;  need  of  Graeco- 
Roman,  177-178,  179;  prob- 
lem of  Roman,  141;  receptiv- 
ity of  first  century,  181;  Sen- 
eca's criticism  of,  139. 

Alexander  the  Great,  99;  ef- 
fect of  conquests,  101,  105, 
115. 

Apostles,  preach  resurrection, 
195;  testimony  of,  76. 

Apuleius,  condemns  priests, 
74. 

Aristotle,    inadequacy    of    sys- 
tem,   97-98;    on    conflict    be- 
tween   reason    and    passion, 
167;  on  oligarchic  oath,  117 
on  reason  and  impulse,  95-97 
on  responsibility  of  state,  97 


on  virtue,  94-95;  philosophy 
of,  93flF. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  the  Scholar 
Gipsy,  140. 

Assurance,  266. 

At  home  in  the  world,  51,  81-82, 
123,  276,  292. 

Atomic  theory,  110,  123. 

Atonement,  217;  Moral  Influ- 
ence theory,  218-222;  New 
Testament  doctrine  of,  222- 
226. 

Attis,  65.    vid.  Cybele. 

Augustus  Caesar,  133. 


B 


Balfour,  on  double  aspect  of 
beliefs,  19-20,  185-18G,  202. 

Basis,  historic;  demand  for,  75- 
76. 

Beliefs,  double  aspect  of,  19, 
20,  185-186,  202. 

Bergson,  ^lan  vital,  106. 

Bevan,  "Friend  behind  phenom- 
ena," 245;  on  fear,  99;  on 
Posidonius'  aim,  128;  on  the 
Stoic,  108-109. 

Black,   Hugh;  quoted,  290. 

Brotherhood,  possibility  of,  101. 

Browning,  on  Christianity,  301. 

Bunyan,  on  Conscience,  231. 

Burnet,  on  Socrates'  dfrmon, 
89;  on  Sophist  conception  of 


309 


aio 


INDEX 


goodness,    84-;    on    spirit    of 
Greek   philosophy,   296. 


Carlyle,  quoted,  288. 

Carneades,  103. 

Causal  series,  19,  20,  22-23,  186, 
203,  215. 

Cause,  in  Christian  experience, 
22. 

Century,  last;  of  republic,  116, 
119,  120. 

Certitude,  desire  for,  54. 

Christ,  attitude  to  claims  of,  21 ; 
end  of  law,  232,  264;  end  of 
quest,  284;  historic  person- 
ality of,  180,  182,  183-184, 
241,  268,  282,  298;  historic 
reality  of,  181,  183;  object 
of  faith,  26,  299,  301;  par- 
doning love  of,  210;  redemp- 
tive work  of,  215,  251;  views 
of  death  of,  218,  219,  222,  224, 
282,  299. 

Christian  Community,  early,  57, 
198;  growth  of,  197;  origin 
of,  182;  proof  of  faith  of 
church,  199,  283. 

Christianity,  56-57,  180,  184, 
213;  adequate,  213,  274,  284; 
aid  of  cults,  67,  75,  76;  an- 
swer to  age,  172;  causal  sig- 
nificance of,  ix,  18,  20,  21,  23, 
263 ;  contrasted  with  cults,  76- 
78;  converts  to,  211;  dynamic 
significance  of,  305;  function 
in  life,  202;  history  in  Acts, 
38;  influence  of  Oriental  reli- 
gions on  justifying  power, 
213;  misconception  of,  240; 
mobility  of,  182;  no  eastward 


movement,  28,  31;  opposition 
to,  41;  power  of,  189-190; 
progress,  three  periods,  39, 
40-41,  44;  relation  to  history, 
21;  spread  of,  33-34,  35-37, 
67,  73. 

Christians,   test   of,   261. 

Church,  admission  to,  42,  211- 
212;  apostolic,  198;  develop- 
ment of,  42;  open,  69,  76, 
183. 

Cicero,  opportunism  of,  128- 
129. 

City-state,  115;  breaking  up  of, 
117,  120,  177;  destructive  cur- 
rents in,  99,  100,  102. 

Civilisation,  and  religion,  287- 
288;  289. 

Cleanthes,  hymn  of,  107,  245. 

Clergy,  non-secular,  69,  76,  183. 

Cognitive  series,  19,  20,  22-23, 
186,  202-203,  215. 

Conduct,  safe,  definition  of 
quest  for,  50;  demand  for, 
115,  120,  123;  desire  for,  81, 
83,  98,  209;  end  of  quest,  232; 
ethical  sanction,  154;  goal  of, 
189;  individual  problem,  151- 
152;  Plato's  quest,  93;  prob- 
lem of,  177-178;  Socrates' 
quest,  87;  urgency  of,  84. 

Conscience,  attitude  to  inherited 
beliefs,  256;  Bunyan  on,  231; 
criticism  of,  218;  description 
of,  230-231. 

Conway  on  last  century  of  re- 
pubHc,  116-117. 

Corinth,  198. 

Cosmopolitan,  party,  156;  tend- 
encies, 153,  157. 

Creed,  16,  23. 

Cross,  end  of  quest,  218,  232. 


INDEX 


311 


Cumont,  on  appeals  to  divini- 
ties, 61;  on  conflict  between 
ritual  and  ethics,  74;  on  in- 
fluence of  Orient,  118-119;  on 
Isis,  72;  on  notion  of  deity, 
64. 

Cybele-Attis,  65,  75,  120;  ab- 
sorbed by  cult  of  Mithra,  66; 
brought  to  Rome,  65-66;  cult 
of,  65;  Magna  Mater,  66. 


Dante,  on  Virgil,  134. 

Democritus  referred  to,  110. 

Denis,  quoted,   141. 

Dependence,  sense  of,  276,  279, 
280. 

Dickinson,  on  distinguishing 
feature  of  Greek  religion,  51, 
81,  82;  on  Plato's  charioteer, 
247. 

Dill,  on  intermediate  gods,  256; 
on  Seneca,  139-140. 

Dispersion,  Jews,  of,   168,  171. 

Doctrine,  description  of  func- 
tion, 33-35,  214,  298;  func- 
tion of,  24-25:  necessity  of, 
242;  relation  to  series,  22-23; 
two  aspects  of,  23,  203. 

Dogma,  demand  for,  104. 

DoHinger,  78. 

Dunamis,  179,  279. 

Dynamic,  Christian,  214,  216; 
demand  for,  178,  184-185; 
moral,  178-179,  210;  spiritual, 
188,  190. 


E 


Election,  doctrine  of,  262-266. 
Emperor,  worship   of,  280. 


Ennius,  quoted,  116. 

Ephesians,  epistle  to;  power  of 
gospel  described,  197-198. 

Epictetus,  relation  to  Stoicism, 
134. 

Epicureanism,  110-111,  115,  177, 
188;  as  ethical  quest,  101;  ef- 
fect on  Cicero,  128;  form  of 
spiritual  experience,  55;  in- 
adequacy of.  111;  influence 
of,  33,  120;  notion  of  life, 
110. 

Epicurus,  atomic  theory  of,  110, 
123;  devotion  of  Lucretius  to, 
127. 

Ethical  sanction,  97,  102. 

Ethics,  conflict  with  ritual,  74- 
75;  function  of  state  in  ref- 
erence to,  95,  98;  views  of 
Plato  and   Aristotle,  102. 

Euripides,  age  of,  83. 

Exile,  effect  of,  150-152. 

Ezekiel,  on  individual  life,  151- 
152. 

Ezra,  effort  for  national  unity, 
153-154. 


Faith,  basis  for,  187;  Christian- 
ity confirms,  21;  connecting 
power,  298;  elements  in,  299- 
300;  in  Christ,  76,  243;  justi- 
fying, 239,  243,  266;  object 
of,  26;  relation  of  pliilosophy 
to,  19;  releasing  function,  216, 
226-227,  243;  stability  of,  25; 
term  of  admission,  212. 

Fatherhood,  divine,  281-282; 
revelation    of,   282. 

Forgiveness,  244. 

Fowler,  Prof.  M'ardc;  on  Chris- 


INDEX 


tianity  in  Roman  world,  77- 
78;  on  Cicero,  128-129;  on 
Lucretius,  121;  on  signifi- 
cance of  Christianity,  373- 
273;  on  stasis,  117. 
Function,  24-25;  kinds  of,  215- 
216;  relation  to  doctrine,  24, 
203-204,  214,  298. 

G 

Gentile,  believers,  vid.  God- 
fearers  ;  relation  to  Christian- 
ity, 27,  33;  sense  of  need  of, 
228. 

Gildersleeve,  on  Marcus  Aureli- 
us,   135. 

Glover,  quoted  on  dwmona, 
257. 

Gnosis,  179,  279. 

Goal  of  hopes,  259;  arrived  at, 
266. 

God,  attitude  to  man  as  sinner, 
225-226;  fatherhood  of,  244; 
human  likeness  of,  277-278; 
Jewish  idea  of,  148;  Plato  on 
reality  of,  91-92;  right  rela- 
tion to,  49-51,  149,  151,  153- 
154,  159,  178,  189,  202,  271, 
277;  Stoic  conception  of, 
107. 

God-fearers,  35-38,  56,  129,  134, 
148,  178,  182,  241;  Schiirer, 
quoted,   36. 

Gods,  fear  of,  122,  125-126; 
tendency  to  humanize,  125. 

Goodness,  idea  of  Socrates,  86- 
87;  of  Sophists,  84;  of  Stoics, 
108-109. 

Gospel,  atonement  in,  217;  at- 
tracts, 45;  creative  power  of, 
198,  199;  defines  man's  status. 


222-223 ;  dynamic  message, 
199;  need  to  preach,  303. 

Gospels,  the,  75;  made  neces- 
sary, 184,  190. 

Grace,  justifying,  217,  222,  226, 
231,  234 ;  religion  of,  298. 

Greek  philosophy,  effect  of, 
115-116,  120. 

Growth,  problem  of,  249,  254, 
258. 


Heraclitus,  referred  to,  106. 
History,    effect    on    belief,   21; 

"past  ethics,"  21. 
Holiness,  progress  in,  258,  266, 

272. 
Holy   Spirit,  254-255,   258. 
Howerth,  definition  of  religion, 

50. 
Humanism,  influence  of,  287;  of 

Seneca,   140;   of   Virgil,   131- 

132. 
Humanity,  new  sense  of,  101. 
Human  life  in  God,  desire  for, 

283,  297. 


Idealism,  religious,  81;  "unreg- 
ulated," 290. 

Ideas,  relation  to  faith,  17; 
Plato's  doctrine  of,  89-90. 

Immortality,  in  Christianity, 
183;  in  Mystery  Religions, 
68,  76;  Lucretius'  denial  of, 
123. 

Incarnation,  craved,  279,  283. 

Individual,  importance  of,  84, 
98,  151. 

Individualism,  unregulated,  286. 

Isaiah,  estimate  of  his  age,  86. 


INDEX 


313 


Isis-Serapis,    63,    73,    75,    190; 
cult   of,  66-67. 


'Know  thyself,"   Delphic  max- 
im, 86. 


Jacks,  L.  P.,  referred  to,  50. 
James,  Prof.  William;  on  func- 
tion, 215-216. 
Jerusalem,  council  of,  43-44. 
Jesus    Christ,   in    Moral   Influ- 
ence   theory,   221;   object  of 
faith,  26;  opposition  to,  156, 
161;  Person  of,  173;  Person- 
ality of,  282,  298,  303;  Son  of 
God,  ix,  X,  196;  standard  of 
goodness,  196-197. 
Jew,  27,  28;  advantage  of,  148; 
attitude  to  new  faith,  39-40, 
142-143;    dispersed,    41,    142, 
168,  171;  failure  of,  148,  262; 
sense  of  need,  229. 
Judaism,   42;    aid   to   converts, 
211;    contrasted   with    Chris- 
tianity, 183;  influence  of,  120; 
influence     of     Pharisees     on, 
157;     insufficiency     of,     241; 
monotheism  of,  142-143;  rela- 
tion to  gentile  Christians,  42- 
44;  superiority  over  cults,  56. 
Judaizers,  43-44. 
Justification,  meaning  of,  215- 
217;  object  of,  242;  prior  to 
sanctification,  253 ;  productive 
function,    216;    righting    act, 
215,  217,  226,  229-230,  244. 
Juvenal,    72;    condemnation    of 
priests,  74. 

K 

Knowledge,  Socratic  notion  of, 
87-88;  Plato's  notion  of,  91- 
92. 


Law,  authority  of,  154-155; 
eternity  of,  159-160;  Ezra's 
use  of,  154;  function  of,  162- 
164,  229,  263-264;  obedience 
to,  160;  Scribes  as  interpre- 
ters of,  154-155. 
Liberty,  Jewish  notion  of,  37- 

28. 
Life,  Christian,  242,  267;  ideals 

of,  209. 
Logos,  106. 

Love,  divine,  226,  228;  pardon- 
ing, 210,  217,  222,  228,  241. 
Lucian,    62;    condemns    priests, 

74. 
Lucretius,  compared  with  Vir- 
gil, 129-130;  develops  atomic 
theory,  123;  on  elemental 
spirits,  126,  258,  278;  on  Mag- 
na Mater,  60;  on  "Nature  of 
Things,"  121-122;  scepticism 
of,  122-127;  view  of  rehgion, 
124-125. 
Luke,  account  of  early  church, 
38,  42;  humanism  of,  76. 

M 

Magna  Mater,  66;  brought  to 
Rome,  G5-QQ,  vid.  Cybele. 

Man,  aphorism  of  Protagoras, 
84;  modern,  285,  290;  rela- 
tion to  world,  288;  status  be- 
fore God,  221,  225. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  teachings  of, 
134-135. 

Mark,  gospel  of,  76. 


314 


INDEX 


Mayor,  on  Virgil's  Eclogue, 
133. 

Megalesia,  festival  of,  66. 

Messiah,  expected,  160;  testi- 
mony of  Peter  to,  39-40; 
wanted,  28. 

Messianic  Eclogue  of  Virgil, 
133-134. 

Meyers,  Prof.,  quoted,  21. 

Mithra,  absorbs  cult  of  Cybele, 
66;  cult  of,  63-64;  influence 
of,  66;  Plutarch's  reference 
to,  64. 

Moral  dynamic,  craved,  219, 
279. 

Moral  inability,  219-220. 

Moral  sense,  demand  on  tra- 
dition, 165,  219,  2T7;  devel- 
oped by  the  law,  170;  grow- 
ing demands  of,  165,  167- 
168. 

Monotheism,  ethical,  56,  120, 
143,  150-151,  178;  highest 
type  of,  35;  of  God-fearing 
Gentiles,  36;  in  synagogue 
worship,  34-35;  tendency  to, 
64-65. 

Muntz  on  Adoption,  244-245. 

Mystery  Religions,  aid  to 
Christianity,  67-68,  71,  76; 
difficult  to  interpret,  62;  four 
kinds,  63;  inadequacy  of, 
183;  influence  of,  240;  na- 
ture of,  67-69;  popularity  of, 
73;  satisfies  social  needs,  70- 
71. 


N 


Nationalism,  Jewish,  152,  160. 

Nature  cults,  63. 

Nero,  pupil  of  Seneca,  135-136. 


Obedience,    element    in     faith, 

300,  302. 
Old   Testament,  book  of  early 

church,  75. 
Opportunism    of    Cicero,    128- 

129. 
Orient,    effect    on    Rome,    118- 

119. 
Oriental  religions,  influence  of, 

in  time  of  Christ,  33;  vogue 

of,  213. 
Orphic  sects,  teachings  of,  90; 

notion  of  evil,  250-251. 
Osiris,   75. 
Ovid,  on  good  and  evil,  88,  222. 


Parties,  religious,  155;  secular, 
155. 

Past,  debt  to,  289 ;  influence  of, 
ix. 

Paul,  appeal  to  Gentiles,  37,78; 
belief  in  resurrection,  193- 
194;  church  organized  at  Cor- 
inth, 35;  demands  of  Paul's 
age,  220-221,  222,  228-229; 
development  of  doctrine,  242- 
243;  doctrine  of  new  life, 
248-249;  on  election,  262-266; 
experience  in  Romans,  chap- 
ter seven,  165-166,  229;  on 
good  and  evil,  88,  232,  249; 
method  used  to  show  religion 
of  power,  185-188,  202-203; 
two-fold  function  of  law, 
162-164;  vision  of  opportuni- 
ty,  172-173. 

Paulsen,    on    Moral    Influence 


INDEX 


315 


theory,  221-222;   on  need  of 
religion,  297. 
Peace,  as  function  of  faith,  230- 
234;    relation    to    pardoning 
love,  216. 
"People  of  the  way,"  57. 
Performance,  demand  for,  187, 

194. 
Perseverance,  267. 
Person,  divine,  in  Christianity, 

188. 
Personality,    craved,    142,    220; 
historic  personality  in  Chris- 
tianity, 181-184,  190. 
Pessimism,  142. 
Petronius,     condemns     priests, 

74. 
Pharisaism,   193. 
Pharisee,  28;  failure  of  system 
of,  162-170;  idea  of  law,  159- 
160;  of  relation  to  God,  159; 
origin  of,  29;  party,  28,  155- 
157. 
Philosophers,  pre-Socratic,  83. 
Philosophy,     inadequate,     295- 

296 ;  trend  of,  140. 
Pilgrimage,  of  conscience,  147; 
of  imagination,  147 ;  of  mind, 
147. 
Pindar,  purified  religious  ideal- 
ism, 83. 
Plato,  allegory  of  cave,  90-91; 
on  conflict  of  flesh  and  spirit, 
247-248;  doctrine  of  ideas,  89- 
90;    ethical    monotheism    of, 
90;    idea    of    knowledge,    91; 
inadequacy  of  philosophy,  92- 
93;  influence  of,  120;  way  to 
God,  93. 
Plutarch,   on  elemental  spirits, 
256-257;  reference  to  Mithra, 
64. 


Posidonius,  aim  of,  128;  tem- 
pered Stoicism,  132. 

Power,  altruistic  quest,  294- 
295;  egoistic  quest,  294;  for  a 
life,  248;  how  communicated, 
210;  knowledge  is,  87-88; 
manifesting  itself,  50,  81,  147; 
virtue-making,  93,  96-97,  179- 
180,  220;  want  of,  293. 

Prayer,  religion  of,  78. 

Predestination,  262,  265. 

Priest,  power  of,  126-127. 

Priesthood,  non-secular,  68-69, 
76,  183. 

Prophets,  duty  of,  155. 

Protagoras,  aphorism  of,  84; 
teacliing  of,  84-85. 

"Pumpkinification  of  Claudius," 
137. 

Purpose,  divine,  262-266. 

Pyrrho,  founder  of  skeptical 
school,  103. 


Quest,  effect  on  Paul,  201;  ele- 
ments of  religious  conscious- 
ness revealed  in,  275-276 ;  end 
of,  284,  299;  failure  of,  171; 
goal  of,  189;  for  holiness, 
241 ;  phases  of,  53;  for  power, 
241. 

B 

Reconciliation,    189,    222,    224, 

243-244,   247. 
Reform,  inadequacy  of,  141- 
Reformation,  Protestant,  286. 
Regeneration,  247. 
Relationship,  legal,  153,  159. 


816 


INDEX 


Beligio,  124,  127,  272. 
Religion,  as  "effective  desire," 
50,   81,    147,    163;   chief  con- 
cern, 287-288;   for  Jew,  149; 
law  free,  239;  notion  of,  50, 
57;    of   prayer,    78;   test   of, 
188. 
Religious,  appeal,  179;  convic- 
tions,   15,    17,    18,    22;    con- 
sciousness,   demand    of,    285, 
297;     elements     of,    275-276; 
truth,  desire  for  system  of, 
19,  21. 
Remedy,  demand  for,  167. 
Renaissance,  286-287. 
Repentance,  term  of  admission, 

212. 
Responsibility,    new    sense    of, 

159. 
Resurrection,  40,   191,   195-197, 
199-200;   of  Christ,  216,  268, 
271;  dynamic  quality  of,  197, 
199;    evidence    for,    190-191; 
fact  of,   194;   not  a  symbol, 
192-195;   Paul's   use   of,   199- 
200;  relation  to  Christianity, 
193. 
Righteousness,  214-215. 
Right  relation,  effective  desire 
for,  50,  81,  147,  163,  277-279; 
to  God,  209,  226. 
Ritual,  conflict  with  ethics,  74- 
75;    effect    on    religion,    59; 
popularity  of,  59;  power  of, 
60-61;     religion     of     natural 
man,  58;  as  screen,  82. 
Romans,  epistle  to;  analysis  of 
experience   in   chapter   seven, 
165-166. 
Rome,  state  of  society  in,  SS, 
116,     119;     westward     door, 
27. 


s 


Sadducees,    29-30;    attitude    to 
gospel    beginnings,    40;    atti- 
tude to  Messiah,  160;  cosmo- 
politan   party,    156;    interest 
of,  168-169;  origin  of,  156. 
Salvation,  by  ethics,  55;  bylaw, 
160,  162;  by  legal  obedience, 
55;    by    ritual,    55,    58,    78; 
earned,  211,  232. 
Sanctification,    247;    object    of, 
253;  relation  to  justification, 
253. 
Sanday,  Prof.,  on  Romans,  223. 
Saviour,   desire  for,   281;   need 

of,  142. 
Science,  no  spiritual  aid  from, 

296-297. 
Scribes,  origin   of,  154. 
Scriptures,    Greek    version    of 

Old  Testament,  35. 
Secularism,   tendency   to,   after 

captivity,  152. 
Seneca,    134-135;    character   of, 
136-138;     as     consoler,     140; 
criticism    of   age,    139;    Stoi- 
cism  of,    138-140. 
Shorter  catechism,  on  sin,  163. 
Sin,     atonement     needed,    228; 
conviction    of,    228;    doctrine 
of,  282;  law  defined,  162-164. 
Skepticism,  103. 
Social  passion,  71,  294-295. 
Socrates,     85-89;     dcemon,     89; 
criticism   of  craftsmen,  290; 
inadequacy    of   teaching,   89; 
Stoic  estimate  of,  195. 
Sophists,  age  of,  83;  on  good- 
ness, 84. 
Sophocles,  contribution  to  reli- 
gious idealism,  83. 


INDEX 


317 


Spirit,  conflict  with  flesh,  247- 
249;  views  of  Aristotle,  248; 
of  Paul,  249;  of  Plato,  247. 

Spirits,  elemental,  125-127,  256- 
258,  279. 

Spirituality,  new  sense  of,  151- 
152. 

Stasis,  at  Rome,  118;  defined, 
117. 

State,  function  of,  in  ethics,  95- 
96. 

Stearns,  Prof.,  on  justification, 
253;  on  Moral  Influence  theo- 
ry, 218;  on  sanctification,  253. 

Stephen,  estimate  of  Christian- 
ity, 169;  part  in  spread  of 
Christianity,  40-41. 

Stevens,  Prof.,  on  election,  264. 

Stoicism,  115,  188;  compared  to 
Epicureanism,  110;  efi'ect  on 
Cicero,  128;  ethical  move- 
ment, 73;  ethical  quest,  101; 
inadequacy  of,  107-108;  influ- 
ence of,  33,  120;  intensifies 
unrest,  177;  philosophy  of, 
105-110;  salvation  by,  55. 

Stoics,  188,  195. 

Syncretism,  Cicero's  interest  in, 
128;  of  cults,  62,  73;  period 
of,  158;  tendency  to,  55,  104, 
213,  294. 


Tests  of  religion,  187. 
Theology,  16,  23. 
Thucydides,  cited,  118. 
Trust,  element  in  belief,  300. 


Unrest  in  modern  world,  291. 


Values,  altered  conception  of, 
286,  291. 

Virgil,  aid  to  Christianity,  134; 
contact  with  "terrible  cen- 
tury," 116;  contrasted  with 
Lucretius,  129-130 ;  human- 
ism of,  131-133;  Messianic 
Eclogue,  133;  service  to  age, 
133-134 ;  spiritual  sensibility 
of,  131;  Stoicism  of,  131-132. 

Virtue,  views  of  Aristotle,  94; 
of  Plato,  92. 

Virtue-making  power,  in  Christ, 
199-200;  vid.  Power. 

w 

Way  of  life,  demand  for,  101. 
Westcott,  F.  B.,  quoted,  224. 
Wilson,  Woodrow,  quoted,  96. 
Worship  of  emperors,  133. 


Taylor,  H.  O.,  quoted,  122. 
Temples,  public  buildings,  69. 


Zeno,  philosophy  of,  104-106. 


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